


When Albion Needs It Most

by LevanaLilith



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: After Finale, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, Fix-It, Funny, Gay Sex, Hurt/Comfort, Knights - Freeform, Love, M/M, Magic, Modern AU, My First Fanfic, Post-Coital Cuddling, Post-Finale, Resurrection, Romance, Shower Sex, Smutty, Temporary Character Death, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-04
Updated: 2015-01-07
Packaged: 2018-02-28 04:20:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 50,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2718566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LevanaLilith/pseuds/LevanaLilith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"When Albion needs it most, Arthur will rise again". Those were the words of the Great Dragon. had told Merlin on the day he pushed his best friend's body to float on the lake of Avalon. Those were also the words that he repeated to himself every day. To believe Arthur would come back was the only thing keeping him together. He needed Arthur for he was a part of him, the other side of his coin. It was Merlin's destiny to be by his side. He would come back. And when he did, Merlin would be there. Merlin waited and waited by Avalon for Arthur to rise. The centuries passed and Merlin never left. He lived through wars, famines, catastrophe's. He saw the world change, becoming modern and violent. He saw countries that were allies fight against one another. He saw colonies fight for their independence. He saw the rise of political ideals that would kill thousand. He saw advancements in science and the beginning of technology. Merlin saw so much of the modern world. And then one day, he saw his friend again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Merlin POV

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic that I wrote during Nanowrimo. I hope you will enjoy it. Every chapter starts with a song. It is the song I listened to when I was writing it, and does not necessarily have anythings to with the chapter itself. Feel free to listen to the song if you want to know what was crossing my mind as I wrote.  
> I do not own Merlin, only borrowing some ideas and characters from the show to create a happier ending to my favorite medieval characters.

_Bittersweet by Within Temptation_

Merlin was use to grief. He often thought no one grieved as much as him. He had pushed so many bodies of his friends into the waters of the lake of Avalon. He had seen the death of people he cared for all around him. William, Freya, Lancelot, and even his own father. But burying them was nothing compared to the pain of burying Arthur. 

Merlin's eyes glowed as he pushed the boat into the water. He watched his friend disappear into the horizon, no longer holding in the tears. He cried so much he could barely see his departing friend. He frantically whipped his eyes, wanting to see as much as Arthur as he could until it was too late, until his body had reached the horizon. Even then Merlin stayed by the lake, looking at the direction the boat had floated away. The sky went dark and the sorcerer still didn't move. There were no more tears falling down his face as he had cried them all, but still he wept. 

Arthur was gone. Arthur was gone. Arthur was gone. The pain of his failure weighed more on his shoulders than his impossible destiny had ever done. Merlin had saved the King more times than he can count. He had been by his side, protecting him from the numerous dangerous possibilities he faced on a daily basis. He had been there to save Arthur from all life threatening situations, all but once. Once he failed to be there. Once he couldn't use his magic to protect him. Once was all it took for destiny to take Arthur way from him. 

The words of the Great Dragon resonated in his mind. What Arthur had accomplish, what Merlin had help him accomplish would become legend for the centuries to come. Thousand would hear about Camelot and Arthur Pendragon, the once and future king. 

Once and future king! He would come back, Merlin realized. When Albion would need it most, Arthur would rise again. And when he did, Merlin was going to be by his side. That is what he had decided. When Arthur would come back, Merlin would be waiting, ready to serve him again, as his destiny was. Until then, he would wait for him by the side of this lake. 

The sorcerer had to return to Camelot and ready his things for his new life of waiting by the side of Avalon. He would be ready for the King when we would rise once more. As the sun reached great height in the sky, Merlin walked towards the city walls. 

Merlin looked upon the gates of Camelot. He remembered how he was the first time he entered into the citadel. He was young and afraid, completely lost. His mother had sent him to go live with Gaius. She was obviously growing worried for her son. Who wouldn’t? For a boy such as Merlin to be discovering his powers under the reign of Uther was a truly terrifying thing. Merlin remembers that he used to be afraid of himself, wondering why he was alive to start with. He didn't know why he had magic nor what he had to do with it. He was purposeless and it hurt him. He once told Gaius that without answers, he didn't know if he even wanted to live such a life. 

But all that had changed when he met Arthur. Suddenly Merlin knew his destiny. He had reason, purpose. Arthur had been an arse and had made his life a lot more complicated, but he had made it worthwhile and Merlin would forever be grateful for Arthur's presence in his life. 

And now Merlin was returning to the castle of Camelot without Arthur, without that person who made it all better. Not only that, he had to be the one to tell the kingdom about his failure. 

He entered the main hall. As soon as the doors open, a crowd of worried knight peaked their head and tried to see if their hopes would be rewarded. Their mutters felt to silence as they saw only one figure returning. "Let me pass" a worried voice cried out with hope. Merlin couldn't face Guinevere. As she looked upon him, he shook his head. "I'm sorry" he mouthed as he lazily left the grieving crowd. He could hear the cries of Guinevere in the distance as he walked towards Gaius' chambers. The old man almost ripped open the door as he felt Merlin arrive. Breath let him as he saw Merlin's defeated expression. The young man broke in tears, once more torn by the pain of failing to bring his Lord back home. His legs gave up as he felt to the ground and wept. Gaius patted his back, unsure how to bring comfort the warlock.

Merlin stood up and started to run around the room frantically, looking for any magic books he could find. Worried, the physician questioned the boy. "Once and future King", he spat in panic, "once and future king, once and future king". 

"Merlin" Gaius pleaded.

"Arthur is the once and future king. That means he will come back" he dropped the books he was holding to stare at the old man. "He'll come back, and when he does, I have to be ready". The sorcerer returned to his search, throwing the useless books over his shoulders. Gaius had to bend down to avoid being hit by some of the flying rejects. Seeing the pain of the man he considered like a son was heartbreaking. 

"I need magic", he explained, "powerful magic, something that will make me survive the test of time". He grabbed the few books that could have any sort of relevance to magic and went to his room, locking the door behind him. 

***

For the days following Merlin barely ever left his room. He spent most of his time either reading in his chambers or ruining back and forth from the castles forbidden book collection from the vaults. No guards dared stop him from entering, not that they could honestly keep him out. 

He had already gone through the majority of the forbidden content of the vaults. He only had a handful of books to study and he doubted that he would find such information in them. The sorcerer had to come to the conclusion that Camelot was not the place to find the answers about the teachings of magic. But he wasn't sure if he could leave. The halls of the castle were filled with memories of Arthur, memories that kept he allusion that he was alive. It was stupid but when Merlin was standing in the staples he expected to see Arthur's prattish face barge in at any moment with a list of chores he had to do. It hurt to face such places, but it was a good hurt, the type of nostalgia that soothed his fresh wound. 

But Merlin had to go. If he wanted to find a way to live until Arthur's return, which no one knew how long it could take, he had to follow the path of learning, even if it meant leaving the only place he dared to call home. He had to pack his bags and go where others with magic would teach him the things he desperately needed to learn. 

As he was ready to leave, Merlin glances towards Arthur's window. The King use to sit there for hours, looking into the courtyard, as he pondered the weight of the thought decision his position forced him to take. The sorcerer ran up the stairs leading to his friend's old chamber. He couldn't leave without bringing a piece of Arthur with him. 

He opened the door and as soon as he did, he was reminded why he had avoided this part of the castle. The room still smelled like Arthur. He was everywhere you looked. Merlin could almost see the King lying in bed, standing by the window, sitting at his desk. Merlin had to fight the tears away as he started to snoop around. He looked upon the bed he had made for Arthur before leaving for Camlann. It was still intact. Some part of Merlin wanted to mess it up just to be able to place it back in order, as he did so many times before. He saw the decoration pillow resting on the sheets. How many times had Arthur thrown it to his face? Merlin grabbed it and shoved it in his bag. 

We was about to leave when he saw the cape that bearded the crest of Camelot hanging by the door. Without thinking he grabbed it, folding it around his arms. Now he was ready to leave. He got out of Camelot without looking back. His destiny was no longer there. The inside of the citadel would not bring Arthur back. Only his departure could bring him closer to the place he ought to occupy by the side of his King. 

And so Merlin left for the outsides of Camelot, venturing into the lands of the druids, looking for anyone with more magic. He knew there was a way, he was positive of it. Merlin had made himself age more time than he could count. There must have been a way to keep him young. A spell, an herb, a variation of the potion he already used to return to his natural state, something, anything. As long as it would make him survive the test of time so he could assist Arthur in his eventual return, he would be happy. 

***

Merlin had spent a decade looking for such magic. And he did find it. He found it in a land to the east, across a sea, on a territory he did not recognize. There was a tribe of Celtic wizards who claimed to have had cheated old age by drinking the cider of the fruit growing on the oldest tree of their land. Merlin found out that they had succeeded to live longer for a few years, but the drink wasn't everlasting. It needed a little more magic, something that Merlin was capable of providing. He had started to play with the elixir when rumors of war had reached his ears. It was said that the land he inhabited was planning to attack Albion. 

The warlock's heart pounded with tentative hope. Was this the tragedy for which Arthur would return? He did not waste a moment, packed the fruit and left the Celts. He could not travel fast enough. Using his magic to increase his speed, Merlin rushed to the lake of Avalon. He stood by the side of the water where he had pushed his friend to rest ten years ago and looked out for any type of change in the surface. He could hear the steps of the enemy troops marching towards the citadel. His heart jumping in his chest every time a wave moved in the lake. He looked out for any sign of Arthur’s return, waited for anything. He could hear the screams of the courtly men as the war started at the gates. There was no movement in the lake. The cries of the fallen soldiers were resonated so loudly they could be heard from the shores on which Merlin stood. Still nothing changed on the water. When it became apparent that the enemy was hurting civilians the sorcerer had to step away from Avalon’s shore. If he did not intervene soon, there would be nothing for Arthur to return to. His people were being slaughtered and his kingdom destroyed. Merlin had to admit to himself that this war was not the time where Albion needed its leader most.

So Merlin left the lake and made his way to Camelot. His presence was going to be needed by the sick and wounded, not by the unmoving waters of the lake. As a physician, he could help diminish the amount of casualties fallen in the battle. 

When the young warlock walked into the castle, Guinevere jumped on Merlin, hugging him as hard as she could. They did not talk. The hug was all that was needed to be exchange in such a pressing moment. The Queen showed him to the emergency room. Gaius smiled as Merlin marched into the injured hall. It has been years since they last saw each other but fell into shared work instantly, there was no time to lose. The number of injured was growing by the minute and had to be dealt with as soon as possible.

“Merlin, we need to heal the knights at best of we can” Guinevere pointed out as Merlin applied a bandage on a man’s leg. 

“I know Gwen” he replied.

“No Merlin, I don’t think you know” she pulled on his arm, making him face her. “We have to do whatever it takes” she precise. “Even if it requires magic” she whispered. 

Merlin stood back, surprised, but nodded in agreement. 

“Things have changed since you left” Gaius explained as they both leaned over a patient. “Gwen isn’t against magic. It is not legalized, but it isn’t punished either.”

“We’ll talk later Gaius, this man needs herbs to slow his bleeding or he will die of his injuries”.


	2. Athur POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One thing I hate is waiting forever for the next chapter of a fic I love. If you are a little like me, you also don't want to wait. So, I am making this easier on us all by promising to post a chapter every two days until it reaches the end. Yaay!!! Thank you everyone for reading my story. It makes me so happy to see so many people just opening the page and read a little of this world I spent so much time working on
> 
> And sadly, I do not own Merlin. If I did I can tell you that the season finale would have been less painful and a lot more gay!

_Half a Heart by One Direction_

There were worst ways to go, Arthur thought. He could have died on the battle field and no one would have found his body. It almost happened many times now. Leaving this world in the arms of his best friend Merlin was well. He knew that, by Merlin’s side, his departure would have been respected and honored. He forced himself to open his eyes and look once more upon the stupid face of his manservant. Merlin had been the most loyal friend he had. Only now did he understand just at what point he was. He fixed Merlin’s eyes, filled with a feeling of gratefulness. His servant had blindly jumped into danger, risking his life only to help him and never expected anything more than his friendship. He had no clue what his life would have looked like without Merlin’s presence. The man was more important to him than he could ever verbalize.

Arthur no longer felt the pain in his chest. His eyelids were growing heavy and he knew this was the end. He could feel himself slipping away and smiled in relief. It was a good life. He didn’t regret. All he wanted to accomplish in life had happened. Well… almost everything. He looked at Merlin once more and whispered his last words. He used these last moments to show his manservant just how much he cared. “Thank you” Arthur said, reaching out for the locks of brown hair. He smiled as he looked upon that stupid face, patting the man's head affectionately. His hand fell to the grown as he gave into the sleepy feeling weighing heavy on his eyelids.

When Arthur opened his eyes again he was no longer on the beach side with Merlin. He found himself standing in a large grass field. Around him were vast open area with flowers and bushes. A few steps away from his could be seen a used tracked out dirt road leading further than he could see. Was this what the afterlife looked like? Suddenly he heard screams of despair arising from behind him. His instincts took over and he jumped around, ready to defend. Behind him Gwaine was standing with a look of pain. 

“No Arthur, not you, not here” the knight mumbled. “Please tell me you’re not here”

“Calm down Gwaine” the king tried to order. 

“It’s my fault Arthur. It is because of me that Morgana followed you. I tried Arthur, I tried. Percy and I, we went after the witch. We tried to attack her ourselves. We failed. Morgana, she..” 

Gwaine was silent remembering all the pain of his last living moments, how his body has suffered and broke until he could do nothing more than beg for death. His fist clenched as he thought of the smile Morgana had when he had asked for mercy. “It is because of me that you are dead. If you are here that means that Camelot had fallen” he replied in a panic as he knew he was the one who told her where Merlin was truly bringing the King. 

“Camelot has not fallen. We did not lose” Arthur comforted. Gwaine looked up to his king, confused. Arthur took a deep breath and explained.

“Morgana did find us but she is not the reason that I am dead” his face cringing at the last word. The thought of speaking in such ways about him was confusing at least. 

“Merlin killed her” he remembered. The details of the events happening during his last day were slowly clearing up in his mind. At the time the injuries were taking the best of his conscious mind, but now that they were over, he could think clearly. “We are at peace” he spoke for himself more than for his friend. He had a half-on smile on his face at the memory of yet another thing Merlin had done for him. “There is no need for you to worry my friend, Camelot will be alright” he added. 

“Alright? How can Camelot be alright if you are here?” Gwaine wondered.

“Were exactly is here?” Arthur replied. By the looks of it, they were standing together in the middle of nowhere. Some people were starting to pass by, no more than a handful. 

They were walking in the distance of the field, passing by confident about their destination. This place reminded Arthur of no other. If it was Heaven it was small and boring. And Hell was definitely not this quiet and peaceful. 

“Limbo, at least that’s what I was told” Gwaine explained. “I don’t remember much about how I got here honestly. I remember looking at Percy and then all of a sudden I was here. A passing man laughed at me when he saw the expression on my face. ‘Always the same confused looks on the newbie’ he told me. He’s the one who informed me of our position. This is the place where the dead come to wait until they are faced with their judgment.”

Arthur paid a second look to the people walking by. If there were only this many souls wondering it meant that the casualties of war weren’t numerous. It gave him some sort of relief to know that most of his knights had survived the battle of Camlann. He noticed that the flow of people was getting smaller somehow. A tall bearded man suddenly vanished in the middle of his walk. So that was how they were called to judgment. 

“How long are we to wait in this place?” Gwaine asked, calling Arthur’s attention back to him. “I mean they could at least have placed a tavern around. We could waist out times with a pitcher of-“

And the knight was gone. Arthur reached out to the empty space where his friend once stood. Soon he would see him again, he thought. 

He started to walk, like everyone else around him did. There was nowhere to go. He just moved forward, waiting for something to change. And when it did Arthur was surprised. His body started to feel warm, like the type of heat one feels rolled up in a comfortable blanket. In a matter of second following the warmth the King was standing in a white hallway. The color was so painfully pure it took a moment to get adjusted to the brightness. At the end of the hallway he could see a big white door. He had been judged and placed in the hall that would bring him to his eternity of rest. He rushed towards it, hoping to see all the people he had lost, his brothers in arm who died at war, his friend who   
left him all too soon. He opened it wide and immediately found himself in surrounded by strong arms. 

“Arthur, my son” a wet voice spoke into his ears. He returned the hug pulling the other’s body closer. 

“Father” he mouthed breathlessly, enjoying the comfort of such embrace. He remembered the last time he saw his father alive. The sadness, the pain, the ache Arthur felt toward   
Uther’s death, it all left him. How he had missed his father. He missed him so much that he had used magic to talk with his spirit. 

That is when Arthur was reminded of the last time he had truly seen Uther. Merlin and he had hunted his ghost down for he had become a vengeful spirit. He let go as he thought of how his father had tried to kill those he cared for. How the knights were attacked by Uther’s hatred, how Gwen at almost burned to death because of him. He pushed his father away as he recalled how his father had tried to kill him. 

“Arthur” Uther pleaded, his faced filled with pain at his son’s rejection. He lifted a hand, trying to touch his son’s arm. 

“Don’t” Arthur interrupted. He took a step back and stared at his father with anger. “I spent my life striving to make you proud. I did all I could to be the son you would approve of. I looked up to you for so long. Now I know that all those years were a waste of time. I ruled Camelot better than anyone could have done. I have no regret about my kingdom, but you obviously do. You call yourself my father when you tried to kill me, kill your only son, because of your disapproval.”

“Arthur, my son, please” Uther begged taking a step forward. 

“Don’t come near me. The least you can do is let me rest in peace and never find yourself in my sight. I do not consider myself your son anymore. This will be the last time I ever see you” he spat. With those words he walked away. This time he was not going to look back. His eyes were filled with unspilled tears. Arthur felt no guilt, no regret at his words. It was how he truly felt towards his father now. 

Uther respected his son’s demands and never came to bother him in his eternal rest. And Arthur’s rest was good. He spent the first few years enjoying the pleasures of his heaven with Lancelot and Gwaine. Time was incalculable were they were. Nights and days didn’t mean much. Before they could notice they had friends joining them. The first to come was Gaius, followed by Percy and then Elyan. 

And then Guinevere arrived. Reunited, the lovers spent all of their time in the afterlife together. At first they separated from the group, spending their time alone revisiting each other in the most intimate ways. She told him about what happened to Arthur’s kingdom once he was gone. He told him about what he had done with his afterlife, how he had met spirits from so many different placed and had found out about so many different cultures.

It all seemed well until Arthur noticed that Merlin wasn’t joining them. He was such an idiot that he couldn’t even do death properly. A significant amount of time had passed, the King could tell. He had notice that the clothing in which the spirit of strangers who were arriving was different. Their conversations were about places and things he did not recognized. The world of the living had changed. His world was long gone. And still Arthur found no sign of Merlin. He started to worry. Where had his friend gone? He asked around, looking for clues and mentions of Merlin in people’s memories. 

At first he asked his friends, but they didn’t know much more than Arthur. Guinevere told them that he left Camelot after his death. He had moved into the country and rarely came back to the capital. He was never far and most reached out to him, but Merlin was distant from them. His head was elsewhere. The people of Camelot also didn’t understand why the sorcerer didn’t cross over to their side, but on the contrary to the King, they didn't think much of it, returning to their heavenly distractions

In search for answers, Arthur addressed the new spirits in the heavens. He asked them about their lives, searching for hints or clues that would explain why Merlin was absent. Sometimes, the strangers would speak of events that were clearly him, but those times were rare. They told him about a world that was changing. Arthur spent most of his days looking for someone who would tell him their life story. He would listen carefully for any mentions of details that reminded him of Merlin, learning much as he did. The spirits talked of complex object he did not understand such as a pocket watch or even a pistol. They mentioned inventions he had no clue how they worked. The people tried to explain it   
to him, being incredibly patient.

Guinevere was also starting to worry, not for Merlin, but for her husband. In his quest for information, Arthur was barely spending any time with his friends and when he did, he was only present physically. She did her best to bring him back, to get him to relax and enjoy the eternity of bliss, but it all was in vain. Arthur did not abandon his research. If things were reversed, he knew Merlin certainly wouldn’t abandon him. Lancelot convinced Guinevere that her persistence was admirable, but futile. By trying to get Arthur to enjoy his eternal rest, she wasted hers. Eventually she listened to the knight, and stopped insisting. She loved her husband, she truly did. They had promised to love each other until death did them part. And death indeed had separated them for their afterlife brought a new set of relationship problems. 

“I have to look out for him Guinevere. He spent all his life looking out for me. I cannot abandon him” the King explained.

“I understand Arthur. And I am not asking you to do so.” she replied calmly

“Then what is it?” 

“I want you to stop lying to yourself Arthur. You don’t love me anymore, not like you use to back in Camelot”

“Guinevere I-“

“And it’s alright” she interrupted him. “You cared about me more than I could ever ask for. You gave me a life that was worth living. But now things are different, and it’s alright. You care for Merlin more than you are willing to admit to yourself. This is proof of it. Admit the truth, you love him don’t you?”

Arthur did not reply. He had never allowed himself to think of Merlin in such ways. Even now, he avoided thinking of it. It just hurt too much, to think of how he was linked to his manservant, how their destinies were intertwined. Arthur was missing Merlin. His afterlife wasn’t complete without his best friend by his side. He wasn’t allowing himself to think about the meaning behind his quest to find Merlin, behind the strong feeling he had faced with his absence. For now he concentrated only on finding him. Then, maybe he would worry about the meaning behind all that. It was true that you never truly know what you want until you lose it. He stayed silent faced with Guinevere’s question because to answer would be to admit to himself the truth and Arthur was not ready to do that, even less to verbalize it to the woman he had loved and married during his living years. 

“Goodbye Arthur”. Guinevere kissed him on the cheek and left. She didn’t feel sad or hurt. Her relationship with Arthur was the best thing that happened in her life, but her life was over. She had passed away and now was faced with a new world. She had neither regrets nor complaints when it came about her relationship with Arthur. They had not survived the test of eternal time, and grew to rest apart. 

Arthur was now more dedicated to his quest than ever before. He held a notebook of hypothesis of where Merlin had went throughout time, trying to understand what he was doing. He held another note with descriptions of the technologies people thought him, a homemade encyclopedia he referred to when hearing stories from the world of the living. He was waiting, searching, hoping, for something. His determination, unrivaled, his patience, admirable.   
He approached a lady, intending to question her. She was wearing a small black dress that Arthur judged as being to revealing for a young woman. The fashion developments of the modern world were something he would never understand. 

"Good day. My name is Arthur Pendragon" he presented as he gave out his hand. 

"Arthur Pendragon" she laughed. "As in Camelot?” An expression of mockery and disbelief was painted across her face. 

"Yes. You have heard of me". 

"Omg!" She giggled as she punched him in the arm. Arthur was perplex. Was she looking for a fight? To punch someone sure was an odd way to greet people. But the lady didn't seem to be provoking him. "This is incredible. Arthur fucking Pendragon wow! Shut up"

"I didn't say anything"

"What?"

"You told me to shut up, I didn’t say anything” he clarified. The lady was now laughing aloud. 

“I am standing in front of the once and future King, unbelievable” she stated as she caught her breath. 

“Wait. Once- once and future King. What- what does that mean?” he stuttered. 

“How can you not know? According to the legend, King Arthur will rise again when Albion needs it most.”

He did not answer. He thought of what the lady had said. There was so much about his destiny that he didn’t know. Did everyone but him know? Merlin tried to explain to him, but it was much to learn at once. He knew he was destined to live great things, and he had done it. He had brought peace in his land, reuniting the realms of Albion. He had created a kingdom that would be an example for centuries. But he did not know his work would be legendary. 

“Thank you for your time” Arthur excused himself as he left to ponder upon the new information. 

That must have been why Merlin was not joining him in the afterlife. He knew that their destinies were intertwined. Like two sides of the same coin, his manservant had told him. That was why the sorcerer wasn’t entering the other world. That’s why he was not reunited with Arthur, because the King was to return to life, and they would be together again, not in death, but in life.


	3. Merlin POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone. I am starting to work on another Merlin fanfic for you guys, give you a little one shot for the new years. I can't promise anything yet, but it should be coming sometimes after Christmas. 
> 
> And as always, I do not own Merlin, sadly.

_Addicted by Kelly Clarkson_

Merlin left Camelot as soon as the battle was over. It was too painful to bear. Even after all these years the thought of Arthur brought tightness in his chest. He might have been reluctant to leave in the past but now Merlin wanted nothing but to leave. Things had changed in the citadel though not very much, and all for the best. Gwen had ruled well. But Merlin had to admit that the land was not the same as the one Arthur had ruled. And those slight differences were constant reminders of the King’s absence. 

He moved on the shore of Avalon, building a small hut for him to live in. It was very solitary, and therefore, very free. There was no secrecy in that house. For once in the first time in his life, the young warlock didn’t need to hide his magic, leaving his books and tools hanging around. He pulled the Celtic fruit from out of his bag and studied the elixir. Once concentrated, its juice resembled a dark pink goo. It had a strong sweet smell that was almost sickening. The fruit had the power to make life longer, but only of a few years. Merlin had to use his magic to isolate and enhance the part of it that would make him immortal. And he knew exactly where to find such strength.

He had heard of a tribe of druid living in the woods north to Camelot who used herbs and spices to enhance their powers. Powerful drugs that allowed them to enter into a trance that helped them tap into their magical selves. At first light, he left to meet them, following the directions that would bring him to the ingredients he needed. 

The tribe’s town could be smelt from afar. The air was filled with humidity and the stunk of skunk. Merlin pulled his scarf under his nose to try to avoid the smell. When he arrived, he saw many children sitting on the grown around a handful of adults who were healing a rabbit. The little creature had encounter injuries when he caught his foot in a trap. His white fur was stained with hard circles of dried blood. A tall old man with a green cape crouched down at the high of the children and placed his hand on the beat’s thigh, whispering a few words of magic to heal it. 

Merlin realized that a pipe was being passed among the crowd of children, each of them inhaling it before giving it to their neighbor. 

A hand was placed upon the sorcerer’s shoulder. He turned towards his right, startled. An elder man with a generous white beard was pulling him away.

“We were expecting your presence, young warlock” the man explained. He brought them towards a small used tent. If Merlin thought the smell was bad outside, he wasn’t expecting to breathe the air inside the room. It was strong enough to send him into a trance just with the second hands fumes. 

“Expecting me?” the warlock questioned.

“Yes Emrys. We have known for a long time now that you were going to come and visit us. My name is Nartred. In the name of all of us, it is my pleasure to welcome you our tribe’s residence.”

“Thank you for having me.”

“Your destiny isn’t over young warlock. You have much more ahead of you and we are glad to help you. Please, sit with us, eat, and only after tell us what you need.”

Merlin was touched by the druid’s hospitality. He sat on the cousin between Nartred and a young lady. She slightly bowed to him, smiling warmly. Her skin was pale, making her bright blue eyes pop out of her face. The dark red hair she wore to her shoulders was curly and waved. It reminded him of the pattern of flames. The color was certainly right. She offered him a bowl of warm soup, a meal he took gladly. 

“This is my daughter, Faeria.” the old man introduced

“I am enchanted to meet you” Merlin replied

“And so am I, Emrys” she said. “You’re story is well known to us. You have a magical strength that we all envy. I cannot understand why a man such as you could ever need our help.”

“Do not down yourself, you and your people are strongly impressive” he comforted. “I come to you because of my friend Arthur”

“The once and future King?” she asked

“Yes. He will come back and I need to find a way to be there when he does. I have a fruit which its nectar can prologue life. I need a way to enhance its powers to make it eternal” he explained.

“It is a powerful magic you are looking for young warlock” warned Nartred. 

“I am aware of the dangers but I have no choice. It is my destiny to serve Arthur. I have to do all that is in my power to be ready to help him at his return. I almost have the power I am looking for. I was hoping you and your people could help me. If I could find a way to mix your herbs with the fruits juice I might have a potion powerful enough to give me the strength I need to face the test of time.”

“If there is anyone who can wield such power and stay pure of heart it is surely you Emrys” Faeria complimented. “It will be my pleasure to help you. Please, try our pipes. See the strength they have and test their efficiency with us. I hope they will impress you.” She offered him a pipe, from which Merlin was reluctant to use. These drugs were to increase his magical side and he was worried about what it would feel like. He was more powerful than anyone he knew, and these herbs would make it even worst. 

But Merlin knew he had too. His destiny was a lot more important than his petty worries. On that thought, he inhaled the smokes. 

It was different than what he expected. The effects settled in slowly, but hit him hard. Merlin felt a tingling feeling travel down along his sides. It was as if every nerve ending on his body was on alert, feeling the magical essence surrounding him with more power. The air, the ground, other people, it all became on large wave of magical essence travelling everywhere. 

He tested his strength, using a spell to see just how stronger he had become. But just as he was about to speak the words, something caught his eyes. By the entrance of the ten he thought he had seen a blond head pass by. The figure seemed to be wearing a red cape. It had gone by so fast. He shook his head. It was probably nothing. 

The young warlock spent the night practicing spells with the tribe, laughing as they combined their forces to create beauty together. It was childish magic, some foolish spell that were more entertaining than practical, like changing someone’s hair color to bright pink or lifting the kids in the air as they pretended to fly. The sharp allusions made everyone laugh. There was no secrecy, no restraint. For the first time in his life Merlin was openly playing with magic with people who resembled him. He felt free. For the first time since Arthur’s death, he felt alright, almost happy. 

He certainly did not feel happy the next morning. All he could feel was pain. His skin was dry and his body refused to move. It was worse than the morning after a night at the tavern. He lied on the bed the druids had lent him, unable to get up. Every muscle ached in a way he could not describe. He could feel the heartbeat in his veins, putting pressure onto his skin. It was not like the times when he had trained with the knights. No the ache was different. It was as if his magic was sore, like it had been crushing him. Every move sent a new branch of pain down his muscles. 

“The first morning is always the worst” Faeria’s voice resonated. “Here, drink this. It will help.”

She offered him a cup of clear liquid. If it wasn’t for the promise of relief the sorcerer wouldn’t have moved his arms towards the drink for that simple movement was more than he could bare. The liquid was salty, making it hard to swallow. But it worked. He still felt horrible, but somehow it was better. 

“I saw something last night” he told Faeria

“What was it?” she asked curiously while sitting on the end of his bed. Merlin pulled himself up to look at her. 

“I think I saw Arthur.” He held his pillow to his chest, the pillow he took from the King’s room in Camelot. He remembered the blond figure with the red cape that had passed by the tent’s door. Arthur couldn’t be back. If he had returned, Merlin would know. 

“A hallucination I am afraid” Faeria sadly said. “It happens to some of us by time to time. We see what our hearts crave most. I should have warned you before offering the pipe.”

“Do not regret. Those herbs proved to be just what I needed. Their power is impressive. I am glad I tried them” he comforted her. “Even if this is the consequence I face in the morning.” She laughed.

“It gets better with time. Your body develops a resistance and you don’t feel sick in the morning.”

“That’s good for you people, but I won’t be having any more of those herbs. I need them for potions, not for practice.” 

“I understand. It was a pleasure to help you Emrys. If you ever need anything don’t hesitate to come back” Faeria said while giving a bag of the precious spices to the warlock.   
And so Merlin was slowly on his way, craving the comfort of his own bed to tend to his discomfort. He passed out as soon as his head hit the pillow

The herbs were successful. After a few days of work, Merlin managed to isolate the components that made it an enhancer. Mixed with the juice of the Celtic fruits, it was a successful potion to make one live. Surely he was still susceptible to mortal wounds or deadly diseases, but his body would resist the curse of time and stay as youthful as he currently was.

He had plenty of leftover drugs. The druids had given him too many, though he did not complain. Better have more than not enough. But now the remaining drugs were taunting him, available for use. The wizard remembered how great it had felt to be under their influence. Just once, he thought, just once more wouldn’t be bad. He deserved to relax, to smile, to be happy for just one other moment. It wasn’t any different than enjoying a cup of mead at the tavern after a long week of work. 

And so on one cold night, Merlin smoked them. The winter started to settle in as it became freezing outside. He lit a fire and wrapped himself in the Camelot cape he had took when he left the citadel. He rolled the spices into a joint and smoked. It was all entertaining. As the effects kicked in, the sorcerer played with his magic, enjoying the childish spells that entertained him. He created figures in the fire in front of him; horses, knights, and dragons in battle, portraying a landscape of artistic battle scenes. He smiled as he was allowing himself to do what he rarely ever did, enjoying the innocence behind his gift. 

And then he saw it, the flash of red at the corner of his eye. Merlin grabbed a sword, even if he didn’t need it to defend himself. Force of habit was making him carry one around. With one spell he killed the fire as he followed the direction the unknown figure had taken, entering the depths of the forest. He saw the man turn behind a bush. Taking up the pace, Merlin followed it. The sound of a cracked branched resonated in the dark. “Show yourself” the wizard ordered. 

“Merlin you idiot, stop wasting time and keep up” a familiar voiced spoke. Arthur appeared from behind the trees. The sorcerer was stumped. The King was standing in front of him. He knew it couldn’t be true because Arthur wasn’t the same. He looked younger and was wearing his prince outfit. An illusion, he remembered. The herbs made one see what the heart truly wanted. Merlin truly wanted to see Arthur again.   
“Yes Sire” the brunet answered. There was no harm in enjoying the moment. Just once wouldn’t hurt. 

If only it had been just once, maybe Merlin would have been alright. Every time he said it was his last time was another lie. The sorcerer waited by the side of the lake of Avalon for centuries. Sooner than he wanted, Albion had become England, and then Great Britain. The world had changed and he had to face it. Every war was worse than the last, more casualties to fall, more wounded to heal. And for every war Merlin was on the front line, giving the helping push only he could bring to the troupes. He saw so much in his time waiting, and every time he thought this one was the right one, Arthur would come back. And every time he was left with pain and deception. On those days the temptation to take was too strong to fight. He needed to see his friend. 

Merlin did his best to protect the land in which Arthur was going to return. But the 20th century was something he did not predict. Warfare was on a complete different playing field. When a man so dark tried to impose his power over the world, killing hundreds of innocents for no good reason, the country suffered most. World War II was the scariest thing Merlin had ever seen. If there was a time where the people needed Arthur it was definitely those years. But the King never came back. 

Merlin was losing hope. Albion had seen its darkest faith and still it hadn’t reached the moment where it “needed it most”. He would never see Arthur again, the warlock concluded. The prophecy was false. He had done something that had changed destiny. Merlin had set himself of a quest to resist the test of time and time had won. He gave up. 

The time where Merlin was high where the only moments he was truly happy because those were the times he saw Arthur. He knew it was all false, that his visions were nothing more than illusions, but those illusions were all he had, the only thing that had brought him a smile. Everyone Merlin had cared for had died thousands of years ago, and the only reason he was going forwards was never to come by. He had nothing, nothing but the lies he desperately craved. He grew his own plant in his flat by the lake, constantly resupplying his stock of drugs.

The years that passed had ruined the Camelot cape he had stolen from Arthur’s chambers. Merlin only had a square of material left; a small red cut where the golden dragon was embodied. He carried it with him everywhere, holding it close to him as he waited for the effects of the herbs to kick in. 

It wasn’t like Merlin didn’t try to fight the addiction, because he had, a long time ago. Somewhere in the industrial revolution he had thought of quitting. The effects of withdrawal were too painful for anyone to bear. While the herbs gave you what you wanted most when you were high, your low moments were haunted by your greatest fears. The wizard was plagued with nightmares. He would see it every time he tried to stop consuming.

“I can’t lose him” he cried to the Great Dragon, holding on to Arthur’s lifeless body

“This is all on you, young warlock. You ignored my words and now you have brought him to his death” Kilgharrah accused him.

“No. I protected Arthur. I helped him become the greatest King this land has ever known.”

“You ignored my warnings. You had a chance to kill Mordred when he was a boy. I told you to give him in to Uther and get rid of the threat he posed on the King’s life. Instead you helped him escape. I’ve warned you that the witch was evil, but you showed the way to Morgana, allowing her to discover her magic. You created this war that killed you friend. You are responsible for his death.” 

Merlin would have recurrent nightmares where he would be faced with the reality of his actions and the guilt it brought him. He could wake up in screams and sweat. The words the dragon told him in his dreams haunted him in his days. The pain it brought crushed his soul, driving the warlock to the drugs he desperately wanted to avoid, looking for comfort in the words Arthur had brought to him. Only when he was high would he see his friend. Only when he was high would he hold his friend, embrace him, kiss him, feel him against his body. 

Merlin had given up. There was no hope that Arthur would rise again. He spent his days standing by the lake, taking and taking all he could, desperate to numb the pain he felt so deeply. He brewed the herbs in tea and injected the liquid into his arm, making the effects faster and last longer. He was a mess, and he didn’t care. He had no reason to live and feared that death would take away the last joy he felt, the effects of drugs on his imagination.


	4. Arthur POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do I really need to tell you that I don't own Merlin? I'm pretty sure you all know who is the real owners are

_Love Me Back To Life, Celine Dion_

 

It happened suddenly. Arthur was on his way to meet a friend he had talked to the night before. He genuinely thought that this guy would bring him somewhere in his search. They had talked all night yesterday and the King could feel he was getting close to something. They were supposed to meet to talk some more when Arthur felt it. 

It started in his arms. In a matter of second he felt cold, freezing. He pulled his hands closer to his body, trying to collect some warmth. His fingers had become numb and he did not feel them as he moved them frantically. Breathing was hard, as if the air did not have enough oxygen in it. His vision started to tunnel and he became dizzy. The King tried to catch himself on something, anything. He reached out and found only the ground. When had he fallen? He was lying on the floor holding him up in a half seated position, resting his weight on his arms. He held a hand to his throat, panting, desperate for air. The world around him turned dark. The King was blinking badly, trying to get some of his vision back. 

He opened his eyes and his mouth filled with water. Panicked he stood up as fast as he could, rising out of a pool of water. The clothes on his back were heavy with dampness. His trembling legs gave in as he fell face first. He kicked and pushed his arms around trying get back to the surface. He found himself holding up on all fours, his body barely out of the water. Arthur took this moment to catch his breath. He looked at the water trickle down his damp hair. He observed his arms and chest. Why was he in armor? When was the last time he wore the cape of Camelot?

Something shinning on at the bottom of the lake got his attention. His sword was inches away from his hands. He had not seen the sword since Camlann. Quickly, he grabbed it, using it to pull himself up into a standing position. 

From what he could see around him, Arthur had found himself in the middle of a very shallow lake. The shore was not too far. He started to slowly walk towards it, stumbling every few steps. There was a tall building by the water, taller than his castle had been. It was completely square with many windows and more doors that seemed useful. A metal staircase brought to the doors on every level. 

A loud noise came from the road near the shore. It was accompanied by something passing by at a speed Arthur could not believe. It happened again. This time he paid attention. It seemed to be a giant metal armor moving on what could only be called wheels. It must have been the cars people have told him about. And if there were cars on the shore of the lake it meant that Arthur was in the modern world. The thought made him smirk. That couldn't possibly be. He closed his hand, jamming his nails into his skin. He could feel pain. The King was definitely back into the world of the living.

The blonde moved faster as he saw the shore. Someone was sitting on a rock by the water. Eyes closed the figure held a red piece of material in his hands. His thumb going over the golden pattern imbrued in it, carefully outlining the dragon symbol. 

Arthur would recognize that stupid face anywhere; Merlin. He smiled as he ran up to his best friend. After all this time, he finally saw him again. He kneeled down and embraced him. Startled Merlin opened his eyes

“Arthur” the wizard whispered. Hearing his name pronounced by his long lost friend touched him deeply. How he had missed him. He took a moment to appreciate the face he had searched for during the past centuries. Merlin hadn't changed much. He was thinner somehow, if that was even possible. But his smile was still pure. His stupid ears had not change and he still wore that ridiculous scarf. His dark blue eyes remained fascinatingly deep. His lips… his lips were on his own. 

Arthur froze as he realized what was happening. Merlin was kissing him. Lips so soft upon his own, it was so special. Was his heart beating faster? The King couldn't understand what he was doing. All he knew is that when Merlin wrapped his arms around his neck he lost control of reason. His body was acting on its own, driven by the lust that had been lurking deeply in his subconscious. He took grab of Merlin’s waist, pulling the wizard’s body closer. A hot tongue found its way to his own, dancing together passionately. There was something more in that kiss, a desperate want. Arthur felt fingers tighten in his back, pulling onto his clothes. Shivers went down his body, all his nerves on high alert. Merlin’s hands were everywhere, moving frantically from his back to his hair. The sensation of nails rubbing against his scalp was more than he could take. 

Arthur had been passive for far too long now. He moved his hand from Merlin’s waist to his neck, exploring the sides of his chest on his way up. He could feel his friend moan in his mouth. He placed one hand in his hair, pulling on it softly, making the wizard’s mouth open wider. Arthur used that opportunity to take control of the kiss, beating Merlin’s tongue into submission. He pulled the other’s body closer, leaving no space between them. Merlin fell of the rock he was previously sitting on and was now kneeling with his King.   
Arthur pulled at Merlin’s hair once more, forcing him to expose the tender flesh of his collar. The blond kissed his way down his servant’s neck, frustrated at his limited access. The stupid scarf was in his way. Arthur had never liked that scarf anyway. 

He was undoing the knot, ready to untie it when he heard another loud noise. Another car passed by, reminding him of where they were. The two men were being very intimate very publically. He was being intimate with Merlin. That thought only was enough to make the King blush. It never occurred to him, but it felt so right. He hesitated, not wanting to stop nibbling on those taunting earlobes but also shy of the location in which they stood. Merlin pulled back from his body. By the look in his eyes, Arthur knew Merlin had understood his worry. “Come” he whispered, “over here”. 

The warlock grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the buildings he had seen from the lake. The King followed. He rubbed his thumb along the guiding hand that was pulling him closer. Merlin squeezed his fingers and smiled at him. Arthur could only look at those dark wet lips he had be plastered too only seconds ago. The distance between their bodies was torturing the blond. Where were they heading anyway? Arthur did not care. As long as he was with Merlin it would be fine. 

They crossed the street, never letting breaking their lust filled gazed. The blond pulled the brunet in closer. Just one more kiss, it wasn’t that bad. People kissed all the time. This wasn’t public indecency. 

Oh but it was, it certainly was for the way he kissed Merlin was all but decent. The King couldn’t get enough. With every taste he wanted more, deepening their embrace as every their caresses got dangerously passionate.

Merlin smiled in their kiss. “So impatient” he said with a deep lust filled voice. “We are almost there.” Merlin broke them apart once more, leaving Arthur on a note of want. They climbed the stares to one of the doors on the building. Stairs were a bad idea, the blond thought. The king’s view was painful as he saw Merlin’s seductive hips swayed with every step forward. Yes, stairs were definitely a bad idea. He strongly suspected that Merlin was doing it on purpose. The smirk on the warlock’s face as he turned towards him was all the evidence he needed. 

The brunet went through is pocket and Arthur couldn’t help but to stare at the movement of his hand. Soon, but not soon enough, a door was unlocked. The King did not wait for it to close before he was back onto his friend, hands wandering along his side. He heard a smack as Merlin was the one left to close the door. That gave him an idea. The blond pushed his fellow forward, slamming him against the door. Merlin was immobile, trapped between the wall and his body. He was prisoner of Arthur’s want, and that made the King happy.

It was time for that damn handkerchief to come off. He did not wait a second to attack the desired flesh, nibbling along the sensitive nerve. Merlin moaned loudly. “Arthur”. The sound of his name, pronounced with so much lust and desire made his go crazy. Never had his name sound so good. The blonde’s hands wrapped around his friend’s waist, crawled up his body, enjoying all the parts he could touch. His fingers rested where Merlin’s shirt ran short. The warmth of skin was overpowering. They needed to get very naked very fast. Arthur pulled on the collar of Merlin’s shirt, desperate to have access to more skin. The warlock locked his fingers in Arthur’s back, running them under his armor. Arthur could feel the nails rub against his muscular back. He did not control the sounds coming out of him, breathing a moan onto the sorcerer’s shoulder. He brought his hand to the front of Merlin, passing his hands over his abs. Warm skin. That was all he could think of; wanting more warm skin. Merlin lifted his arms, allowing Arthur to pull off the shirt.   
The warlock pushed his King forward, dragging him into the other room. That cape was becoming seriously cumbersome as it slowed his movement. He untied it, letting fall to the ground with a loud thud. As soon as it hit the ground, Arthur was grateful he had removed it. Merlin’s hands were desperate, finding their ways through the armor. The servant knew it by heart for he had done and undone it thousands of times. He could find all the cracks and holes that would bring him to the skin he seek. He knew the strings to pull to untie it efficiently. 

As Merlin undressed the King, Arthur began to explore the wizard’s body. He needed to touch, to touch it all; his arms, his back, his chest. He pushed him forward until they hit something. Together they fell on what seemed to be a bed. Merlin crawled on top of him and Arthur did not complain. He admired the view he had in front of him. His servant was undressing the last parts of his top, throwing the now useless pieces of clothing off the bed. 

Impatient Arthur pulled Merlin close to him, reuniting their mouths in a sensual kiss. He lifted his hips, pushing them deeper into his servant’s waist. He could feel Merlin’s hardness through his pants. His hands found their way to the warlock’s arse, massaging the cheeks. The sounds coming out of Merlin was enough to make Arthur blush with desire. The sorcerer tentatively placed his fingers under his waistband. He breathed out in a pant. Merlin’s fingers sent shivers down Arthur’s body. It was so relieving, yet ended so short of where he truly wanted to be touched. In a faint whisper, he pronounced the wizard’s name. 

He rolled over, finding himself on top of his servant. Thrusting teasingly, Arthur kissed along Merlin’s body, licking the outlines of the sensitive path. He stopped to nibble on the erected nipples. Hands found their ways into the blonde’s hair as their owner moaned in pleasure. 

The sound that came out of Merlin pulled at Arthur’s groin. They needed to get fully naked and that had to happen fast or he was going to lose his mind. He pulled his trousers off and then attacked Merlin’s with his mouth, unbuttoning the front with his teeth. As he detached the man’s pants, the blonde looked up to the brunet. The signed pleased him. Merlin was panting heavily, hands grasping the sheets as his back arched. He pulled off his pants, exposing his swollen member desperate for attention. But Arthur denied it such attention for the wait was worth the reward. He kissed the inside of the brunet’s thighs, enjoying the shivers he caused with his work. He briefly liked along the sensitive vain before engulfing the head in his mouth. All the air in Merlin was released in one moan. The tease was too much. Arthur moved slowly along his erection, causing the poor Merlin to move his hips forward into his mouth, desperate for satisfaction. “Now look who’s impatient” the blond mocked.

“Please- Arthur- I ca-” he whimpered. His speech rendered incoherent by the pleasure he reserved. The blonde took pity on his companion, satisfying him properly. He started to hum around the member as he moved his head up and down. Arthur suddenly regretted not realizing his desires for his servant earlier. The fun they could have had in Camelot.   
He stopped as he heard movement coming from above him. Merlin pulled Arthur up by the neck, kissing him deeply. He gave him a small bottle of clear liquid. He looked at it perplex.

“Lubricant” Merlin explained. He squeezed some of it in the blonde’s hands and forced Arthur to rub in onto himself, folding his hand around the King’s. He wiggled back under Arthur, spreading himself open to him. Luckily the blonde didn’t notice Merlin’s eyes flash gold as he used a spell to spread himself. He was too eager to wait for the foreplay.   
Arthur was gentle, afraid of hurting Merlin. He pushed in slowly. The King was impatient, wanting more and wanting it fast, but his care for his former servant was greater than his needs. He was now fully engulfed inside the warlock, waiting for a response to tell him it was okay to proceed. He kissed the brunet tenderly, moving slightly as he felt nails scratch up his back and down his neck. Merlin pushed his hips forward, meeting Arthur with his thrusts. His body’s sensations were driving him mad. It was becoming hard to remember how to breathe as every exhale resembled more of a grunted moan. The body beneath him was trembling in pleasure. Merlin wrapped his legs around the King’s waist and screamed as the new position allowed Arthur to hit his prostate. The blonde noticed the change in his partner. He knew he was at a right angle and started to thrust madly, unsure of how long he could last. The pressure was building up, begging for release. He grabbed the brunet’s erection and began to pump, desperate for his friend to cum with him. 

Merlin’s hands were tangled in blonde locks as he kissed the figure above him. Between each kiss he moaned the King’s name as if it were the only thing he knew how to do. 

“Arthur, Ar-thur, A-arthur” he repeatedly whispered. That name was his lifeline, keeping his sane when the pleasure was making him mad. He looked at the face he had missed so long, kissing it deeply as he got lost in the light blue eyes staring back at him. 

The sound of his name pronounced with desperate desires was all it took to drive the King over the edge. He released with one last great thrust as he bit onto the sorcerer’s neck. He laid on top of the brunet, exhausted. 

Feeling Arthur’s release inside him was more than enough for Merlin. To know that his King had cum for him, in him, Merlin could barely hold his own release. And then Arthur bit his neck, it was all he needed to cum, spilling out all over his chest and in the blonde’s hand. 

They laid together, one on top of the other, living out the waves of their orgasm. Merlin lightly traced the define paths of his muscular back with his lazy fingers. He locked his fingers in the blonde locks of hair, gleefully smiling at how soft it was. They both patiently enjoyed the after sex bliss, happy to be with the one another.

Arthur rolled off Merlin and onto his back. The wizard came and snuggled his head under his shoulder. Of course Merlin was the cuddle type. He was such a girl. Secretly he was glad his friend was a cuddler because he wasn't ready to admit it, but he liked it. He thought about what had just happened as he drifted into slumber. Was it the best sex he ever had? No, no it wasn’t. It had been rushed and sloppy. Corner had been cut short. Most of the time Arthur hadn't knew what he was doing. But it was good sex. It was good because it held the promise of what it could have been. If the need and the want hadn't driven them to act so fast, they could have turned the night into the best of all nights. That is why it had been great, because by moments, the King could feel the all the potential in their caresses. It wasn't the best, but somehow, he knew that together, they could have the best. Next time he would make sure it was.


	5. Merlin POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whaaaat! I posted a chapter early in the day!!!!!! Yes, yes I did. Truth is I am totally procrastinating studying for my finals. I hope you enjoy this new chapter. Blah blah blah *insert disclaimer here*

_Drunk Ed Sheeran Maybe_

 

Merlin was never able to sleep in, no matter how hard he tried. He spent most of the beginning of life fighting it. During his time in Camelot, Merlin had learnt to wake up before the sun the hard way. Sleeping in cause him to be late and Arthur didn’t forgive lateness. He would give him a list of painful chores every time he would longer than the sun. So sleeping in on that mundane morning after was impossible. He opened his eyes only to see that his clock was flashing a painful red light. 5h10 am. It wasn’t as bad as he thought.

A loud snores coming from behind him resonated in the silent dark room. _Oh no_ , the wizard thought, _oh no, what did I do_. He moved a little, feeling a familiar pain in his backside. _Damn it_. He hadn’t been that high hadn’t he? Once again he had derailed, fucked up, taken so much he had lost control and spent the night with a stranger, **again**. The worst was he didn’t even remember being with someone. The only thing that he could recall was the illusions the drugs had given him. He had to fix this now. Looking around, he realized he was in his own flat. That would make it a lot harder to sneak out. Maybe if he went to the shower it would give the other guy the signal he needed to leave.

The brunet looked around, trying to find his boxer briefs. Where had he left them? The memories of last night were a blur. All he could remember was the illusion he had experienced. Oh, how the high had been worth it, one of the best he ever had. The images in his mind were still clear, Arthur whispering his name in his ear, moaning for him. He had no clue who he had hooked up with in his moment of delirium. He found trousers hanging over the chair by the door. Slowly, he got out of the bed, trying to be as silent as possible. If the person was the wake up right now it would be very very awkward. He tiptoed to the door, grabbing his underwear. He tried to put them on and tripped. It took everything in his not to fall face first onto the ground. Merlin hit the wall, catching him in his fall. He looked at what god damn piece of material had made him stumble. 

His heart stopped. Was that a cape? He picked it up. Yes it was. A big red cape with the cress of Camelot was resting in his hands. He looked at the pantry. The one he had gotten had deteriorated years ago, sometimes during the Victorian era. This one was in perfect condition. It couldn’t possibly be his. He looked at the other piece of clothing lying around the bedroom, his heart so heavy with anxious disbelief he could barely hold on. That is when he saw it, just a shine in the dark, metal. As he got closer he got a lot more nervous. That armor, he knew that armor. He had washed and polished it a thousand times before. He pulled it to his chest. Why was lying on the ground. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t possibly be. 

Shaking his head in disbelief, Merlin couldn’t dare to look at the figure that was lying on the side of his bed. Tears were starting to get caught in his eyes. This wasn’t happening. _No, no, no,_ he whispered to the dark. Merlin refused the believe Arthur was really back. If that was true, then last night was not a dream or illusion. Last night truly happened. He had slept with Arthur. The thought of it made him blush so hard he could feel the heat coming out of his cheeks

He dropped the shoulder piece as his body started to shift underneath the sheets. It fell to the ground with a loud metal clang. “I see you’re still a useless idiot” the person in the bed grunted. “I am trying to sleep.” 

“You told me never to change” the warlock said, half smiling at the situation. 

Arthur turned around in the sheets, placing himself comfortably as he tried to fall back to sleep. He wasn’t ready to get up and face the day, face the truth. Just a few more minutes of sleepy bliss, that was all he needed. But the snort he heard stole all envy to sleep. “Are you- are you crying?”

There was no answers

“Don’t be such a girl _Mer_ lin.” 

“This… this can’t be true. You’re not really here.” It started with a giggle, and then it grew into a laugh. The brunet couldn’t hold it in. He didn’t even know why he was laughing when he was hurting. “That’s it” the warlock lazily stated. “I’ve gone mad. I’ve finally reached the stage of madness.” He got back into the bed, looking at Arthur’s face. He stared at the blonde as though he was all kinds of wonderful. Such a stare was enough to make the King blush. “If this is insanity I take it gladly” he whispered. 

Arthur pulled himself into a sitting position. His friend was dealing with something serious. He grabbed his friend’s face and looked deeply into his eyes.

“Merlin” he reprimanded, hoping the brunet would snap out of it.

“It was a matter of time before I just snapped. I am actually surprised I lasted this long” he rambled on. “Honestly, this is better than what I expected. It could have been so much wors-”

“You are not mad” the King interrupted. “I have no idea why I am here, nor how I got to this world, but this is reality. I am really here.”

“You are back”

“Yes”

“Really?”

“Really!”

“And we… you and I… we had…”

“Yes”

Merlin looked away, not in shame, but in shyness. It was one thing to dream of it, to keep things in the realm of fantasy. It was another to bring in into reality. The silence in the room weighed heavy. They stayed immobile on the bed, avoiding looking at each other. “You are actually here” the warlock whispered mostly for himself. 

“Yes, where exactly is here?”

“My flat” the sorcerer replied.

“Flat?” the blonde questioned. It suddenly came to Merlin’s attention that Arthur didn’t know anything about the modern world. Well, there was going to be lots of explanation to do. _This is going to be fun_ , the sarcastically thought. 

“They are like living chambers but with all the rooms that is needed for one person to stay alone” he clarified. “Would you like to see it?” he suggested nervously, playing with the hair behind his head. 

“Shure” the knight replied.

Arthur’s stomach growled loudly. It was time for breakfast. 

“Maybe get some food first” the blonde stated. 

“Yes. Yes yes yes yes yes” Merlin got out of the sheets. “I.. I will go make that.” His uncomfort could be heard in his voice. 

Merlin entered the kitchen. He prayed to whatever would listen that Arthur would not follow him. They did not need that conversation to happen right now. With time, the warlock had spread around, leaving his mess everywhere. If only it was just normal mess. Merlin had let his books, potions, charms, hang around. There was no reason for him to hide his magic anymore. The current world was not one of hatred. He had let himself go, enjoying the newfound freedom fully. But now Arthur was back, and he did not know how he would react with having so many magical items out in the open. 

Arthur followed him, of course. Where else was the blonde supposed to stay. The blonde walked in shirtless wearing his wrinkled trousers that had spent the night on the floor. The warlock bit his bottom lip at the sight. They would have to get him modern clothes, fast. “What do you feel like eating” the brunet inquired as he opened the refrigerator. “Egg? Sausages? I think I have some hash browns.”

“What is that?” 

“What?” Merlin jumped, worried Arthur was questioning him about some half complete spell he had left on the kitchen table

“That” the blonde clarified as he pointed to the stainless steel box the warlock was looking through moments ago.

“It’s a refrigerator” he hummed. “How do I explain? It’s a machine that keeps food fresh for-“

“I know what a refrigerator is. I did not expect them to look like that though.”

“You, you know what this is” he looked perplex

“Yes Merlin, I’m not a bloody idiot.”

“Wait- How?”

“Someone people in the other world mentioned them. They thought me a lot about what was happening in this realm.”

“Oh” the warlock returned to his search. “How was it, the other world?”

“It was-”Arthur hesitated before answering. “Peaceful. Well at first it was. But people were kind. There was always someone ready to tell you their life story, though most of the time it was useless.” There was a pause. “I tried to find you” Merlin’s head hit the inside of the fridge. 

“You did?” the brunet asked as patted his forehead.

“Of course. When I realized you were taking your time to join us, I started to wonder why you weren’t… well why you weren’t dying.” 

Merlin laughed nervously. 

“I made sure I wasn’t going to” he explained. “I had to stay alive so I would be here when you were to come back. It’s my destiny to serve you, no matter the timeline”

“Well then maybe you should worker harder on that because you are a lousy servant. I’m still waiting on breakfast”. Of course Arthur was kidding. Merlin knew that much. The King was uncomfortable, and he replied to that uncomfort by being a prat. He could tell that the King was confused. There was so much questions in his mind. They had lots to talk about, but neither was eager to get to it, so they said nothing.

Merlin was scrambling eggs while a few sausages were slowly cooking on the side. What now, he thought, unsure of what to do. If Arthur was back it meant that something horrible was going to happen, for the King was only to rise when this land needed it most. If World War II had gone by without his return, Merlin was afraid of what was to come. He returned to the kitchen table with two plates of traditional breakfast, the smell itself was enough to make him salivate. 

Arthur was sitting at the table, observing a set of rocks that were placed to his left. He was holding one to the light, tracing the engraved markings in it. “Don’t touch that” the warlock spat.

“Why not?” the King asked as he looked at the stones with more intensity. Merlin pulled it out of his hands.

“Because it’s special” he stumbled. 

“Special?” Arthur asked suspiciously. 

“They have” Merlin stumbled, improvising an excuse. It had been a long time since he was put on the spot in such a way. “Sentimental value. They belonged to someone important and I don’t want them to be spattered around” 

“You are still lying to me” the King accused.

“What” the sorcerer denied.

“You’re lying. Those stones are magic. The marks engraved on them belong to the old religion” the blonde accused, giving a reprehensive look to his friend. “Why are you still hiding the truth from me?” 

“Force of habit I assume” the warlock defended himself. “It’s hard for me to be honest about it. I’ve hid the truth for so long. I had to. My life depended on it. If anyone knew” the warlock stayed silent, muted by the somber outcome. “Event he dead tried to kill me for what I was. It still feels so weird, to be open about it, with you of all people.”

“The dead?” Arthur questioned, uncertain to understand what his friend was telling him.

“Yes, spirits that were trapped in this world, some of them threatened me.”

“Spirits, like when I summoned my father.”

“Uther was about to kill me when you came in with the horn. If you hadn’t walked it I would have died.”

Arthur shifted his body, a sign Merlin had learn to know as something bad.

“My father knew about your secret before me” he argued, obviously bothered. 

“Arthur it’s not what you think.”

“Of all the people who knew about your magic, my father was one of them. My father knew.”

“Trust me, I did not want Uther to find out. He was going to kill you! I had to stop him.”

“Who else knew about your gift”

“Arthur!”

“Who else?”

“Gaius, Lancelot, Mordred. Gwen found out during the battle of Camlann. I suspect Percy knew, but if he did, he never said anything. Some enemies found out, but they didn’t live to tell.”

The King crumbled in his seat, taking a moment to absorb the news. “Was I that blind?” he questioned calmly

“No, I was that good” the wizard smirked. 

“Your friend Will, he wasn’t a sorcerer, wasn’t he?”

“No”

“He didn’t create the storm?”

“I did. He found out about it as I made it happen. He used his last words to protect me”. Merlin was obviously distraught at the memories of his friend. The King’s heart was touched when he saw the sadness on the brunet’s face. 

“Will and you, were you…” the King blushed, his discomfort obvious in his voice. “together?” he finally managed to ask. 

“Yes.” The warlock answered shyly. “But he ended it before I moved to Camelot.”

“Oh. I didn’t know” Arthur seemed bothered. 

“Are you jealous?” Merlin inquired with a smile on his face. 

“No” he spitted. “Of course not.”

“You are”

“I am not”

“Right” the warlock replied sarcastically. “Whatever you say”

Arthur breathed frustrated. He sat straight and looked around him, seeing only plates and covers. “What’s wrong” Merlin questioned.

“I have nothing to throw at your head, you useless buffoon. Both of them laughed.

“But really what are those?” Arthur asked after a short pause. He wanted to talk to Merlin about magic, to know his world. There were so many more things the King wanted to know about it. Their first conversation about the topic had been cut short by… well by the King’s death.

“Runes” he answered. Merlin saw that Arthur’s face was still perplexed. The knight would not be satisfied with small answers. He sighed as he realized there was no avoiding explaining it. “They are used to try and see into the future”

“What did you expect to find?”

“You” Merlin’s eyes got lost into Arthur’s eyes. “I was hoping I’d see your return and know when you’d come back to me”

“That’s why you were standing by the lake on a cold night”

“Actually, no. I wasn’t expecting you to arrive” he scratched the back of his head. “Not that I am complaining.”

“But, you were waiting.”

“I’ve been waiting by that lake since the day you… since the day I lost you” Merlin confessed, feeling slightly shy at the emotion in his voice. But he did not look away. His eyes said on Arthur. Merlin wasn’t ready to tell him the real reason why he stayed by the lake on most nights. He couldn’t explain that that location made the visions given to him by the drugs more realistic, that the high was more delightful is he stood by the place he had seen his friend last. 

Merlin observed the King, hoping that his friend wouldn’t ask more. He observed his reaction, and then he observed some more of him. He licked his lips as his eyes trailed the path down Arthur’s body. “We seriously need to get you clothes” Merlin stated as he did his best not to stare at Arthur’s naked chest, fighting the temptation to jump over the table and touch as much of it as he could. 

Arthur had to borrow clothes from Merlin, which was hilarious. Everything the warlock owned was too small for the blonde. Even the oversize shirts he used to sleep in were tight on the King. And forget about the pants. At least the trousers he arrived in were plane and brown. They wouldn’t stand out to much.

“The nearest store is about a 40 minute walk down the street” Merlin pointed out as he locked the door to his flat. 

“How would you usually get there?” Arthur asked

“Well- I’d drive but-“

“Then let’s do that”

“Are you sure you are up for that?” the warlock worried. 

“This is a new world, new ways” he seemed unsure but the King was persistent.

“If you say so” 

Merlin showed him the way, opening the door for him. Arthur was obviously uncomfortable, even more when the engine began. The knight grabbed the door handle tightly. The wizard was trying his best to go slowly. He didn’t need to make the blonde unnecessary nervous. But Merlin could not avoid the highway. When they arrived at the mall, Arthur was as white as a sheet of paper. The brunet held back a laugh, not wanting to add to his friend’s uncomfort. 

They entered the store and began to look for shirts, to the King’s displeasure. Modern fashion was not something he understood, even less like. He had judged the clothing choices of everyone he had met in the world of the dead, displeased with the outfit. 

If Merlin thought that Arthur was attractive back in Camelot, he was going to be surprised with the modern fashion. At least the armors and tunics that were warned in the Middle Ages were loose. It was easier to ignore the shapes of the blonde’s body. Now the tight jeans and fitting polo’s were clearly outlining Arthur’s attractive figure. Merlin stared at the broad shoulders covered by the t-shirt, the shirt naturally folding around his muscles. It revealed some things, but not much, leaving the warlock imagining the details the material hid. And don’t get him started on the pants that outline the King’s butt with perfection. 

But Merlin didn’t feel bad about staring. He had to. Some parts of him still believed all this was a dream, some sort of fragile illusion. Whenever Arthur would step too far into the different clothing allies, Merlin’s heart would jump, afraid he wouldn’t find the blonde again. And so he stared, afraid that if he stopped, the King would disappear. 

Merlin was pulled from his thoughts as the blonde complained, again. “This thing is uncomfortable. What did you call it, a polo?” Arthur pulled the shirt off. “I’m not getting this.”

“No, definitely not that” Merlin choked. _If you get that I’m not sure it will stay on you,_ he thought.

They ended up purchasing a few button up plaid shirts and a pair of dark jeans. Arthur insisted to get some tunics at the costume store. “I don’t always need to be trapped in comfortable outfits. I want things I will wear when no one is around” he explained. The wizard agreed, mostly because he wanted a break from the King’s persistence. 

They returned home and had supper, exhausted after a day of shopping. Merlin made a pot of tea as he explained to Arthur how to use the cellphone he had bought for the knight. _Pulling teeth_ , that is how the wizard would describe the lesson. The cups tea turned into glasses of beer as the explanations piled up, but as the sky turned dark, Arthur learned how to do a simple call. “Just press the Merlin button and wait a minute, you’ll hear my voice coming out of here. Get it?”

“Why would I need to hear your voice out of this box if you are right here?”

“Because I may not always be ‘right here’”

“You’re planning to leave!”

“No” Merlin grunted. “I need another beer”

The warlock returned to the kitchen to poor himself a glass. That’s when Merlin knew that he was in reality. As he poured the glass his hands started to shake. It was a slight tremor, nothing dangerous, just the first signs of substance withdrawal. His body was craving the drugs. There was no doubt in the sorcerer’s mind anymore. This was real. Arthur’s return was real. And now he was faced with a real problem. 

“I’ll take one too” the King shouted from the living room

“Coming up.” Merlin shook his head. He would be fine. He had to be fine. He’d make sure he would stay fine. The warlock sat on the sofa as he gave a glass to his friend. “One more time, can you show me how to make a call?”

“I press on the green button near your name and wait until you ‘pick up’ which means you start speaking”

“Finally” the brunet laughed. Arthur threw him a pillow. 

They did not stay up late. The King was exhausted and the alcohol wasn’t helping. He had been through a rough day, experiencing the new world. It was mentally tiring. He fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. Merlin on the other hand, was fighting it. He was afraid, no, terrorized, of falling asleep. He dared not close his eyes, to scared of what he would see. 

He turned to his side, looking at the sleeping King next to him. Arthur was back now. He was alive. Maybe this night would be different. Nothing his nightmare usually said would apply. His friend was back. It would be fine. It would be fine. He gave into the heavy eyelids as he reached out to Arthur. It would be fine.  
But it was not fine. Merlin’s fears would not let him go. That would be to easy. Nightmares were inevitable. That was the price of the drugs. To see what one wants most results in consequences, that being seeing what you want least. 

***

The sorcerer found himself standing in the middle of a clear field. It was night. In his hands was a big white egg. He could see a dragon fly towards the ground and land in the meadow. Kilgharrah looked down to him. He noticed the egg the dragon lord was holding, recognizing a youth of his kind anywhere. The warlock asked him about the egg. “A dragon is born when a dragon lord summons it” he explained to Merlin

“How do I summon it?” the brunet found himself asking. His lips acting on their own. He did not want to talk, he did not want to dream. But in this place, it didn’t matter what he wanted. 

“You must give the dragon a name.”

The dragon lord could feel the rumble from within as he shouted in a deep voice. “Aithusa” he spoke, summoning the baby out of his shell.

“A white dragon” Kilgharrah noticed. “A dragon’s birth comes with meaning. This one signifies your failure young warlock.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“This dragon symbolizes how you failed your destiny” 

“No” Merlin screamed as he placed his hands above his ears, knowing the words that would haunt and hurt him were to come. He hid, as if that would help. The wizard had lived through enough nightmares to know there was no way of stopping it. 

“As I help you, Aithusa will help Morgana, bringing Arthur to his death. Mordred’s Excalibur will be forged in the breath of this white dragon. You unleashed the beast that will create the weapon that will inevitably kill your friend. You inevitably allowed the death of your friend”

“It’s not my fault. I did what was right. I brought a dragon to life. You are not the last of your kind Kilgharrah, and that is good. There is someone else like you and that is because of me” the sorcerer tried to defend.

“That dragon could have lived in its eggs for a thousand years. By summoning it early, you sealed your faith, and ended Arthur’s destiny”

Merlin tried to leave the field but his legs would not listen to him. He was stuck, unable to run away, to forget, to deny. 

“It is all your doing Merlin. You are the one who summon the dragon out of his eggs. It is your fault, young warlock. Your fault” 

The voice resonated in his head. The wizard tried to get rid of it. He tried to wake up, praying that his eyes would open and he would be in his bedroom. But all the wizard could see was the dream he was desperate to escape. The landscape started to morph around him. He was now standing by the bottom of a cliff, looking at a panting Arthur fight Morgana’s soldiers. He did not see Mordred arrive, no matter how loud Merlin screamed to warn him. The warlock was only a spectator in this event, unable to intervene, completely helpless. He was forced to watch the druid run Arthur through with the sword Morgana had made him. _That sword, the one Mordred used, it exists because of you_ a voice resonated in the wizard’s head. _This happened because of you. It is all because of you. You failed your destiny. You failed Arthur. You killed Arthur._

Merlin started to sob as he was forced to accept the truth. His action, not matter the intention, had led to this moment. He had played a part in this murder. He his destiny was to protect Arthur, and he failed.


	6. Arthur POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I spent most of the day today with a published author who gave me a editing workshop, teaching me a few tricks when it comes to reviewing your own work. Hopefully her lesson was useful and this chapter will be written better than the previous ones.   
> I do not own Merlin (he belongs to Arthur ;p). I am only having a little fun at the expense of my favorite homosexuals, and hope that you do too.

_Thousand Years by Christina Perri_

Arthur was awakened by the constant movement happening at this left. He rubbed his eyes and looked at the sleeping figure next to him. Merlin was fully in sweat, his hair sticking to his face. Tossing and turning furiously, he pronounced incomprehensible pleas for help. The warlock grunted loudly in distraught. The King sat up, putting his hands on his friend’s shoulders, trying to shake him into consciousness. “Merlin,” he whispered with a forceful shake. “Merlin.” His attempt to help only made things worst. The sounds of pain coming out of his friend worried him greatly. 

Rattle noises suddenly startled the knight. Looking around him, he saw the objects in the room tremble. Slowly the objects started to float. First the clothes and vases began to levitate, hanging still in midair. He seriously tried to wake his friend up when the furniture started to stand above ground. The knight pulled the sleeping brunet into a sitting position, shaking him violently.

Merlin woke up with a desperate intake of air. His eyes were filled with water and his face showed an expression of emotional torture. As he wizard woke up, the furniture fell to the ground, banging loudly when they hit the floor. Glasses and vases shattered across the ground in a loud crashing sound. The warlock was panting heavily. 

“Hey Merlin, it’s alright” Arthur comforted, bringing the brunet’s attention towards him. “It’s alright. Just a dream. You’re awake now”. 

The confused look on the sorcerer’s face seemed to dissipate and he began to understand where he was. He breathed in an almost normal rate now. “I woke you up,” he stated. “Sorry”.

“It’s okay,” the King patted his back as he let go of his friend’s shoulders. “Care to talk about it?”

“I’m fine,” the sorcerer denied.

“That surely isn’t bloody fine. You look like hell and the room is wrecked.” Merlin turned his head towards the blonde, facing him.

“It’s nothing. It’s fine. I’m fine,” he said with a fake smile, doing his best to hide his distraught. 

But Arthur knew better. He could see beyond the mask and what he saw pained him. Merlin was hurt and he didn’t know how to fix it. He reached out and pulled the brunet closer. The knight wasn’t one for displays of affection, but he knew his friend needed it. In Camelot Arthur had been reluctant to show his feelings, something he regretted once he had died. With his second chance, he was determined to show his friend just how much he truly cared. Hugging Merlin, he buried his face in the locks of brown hair. 

The warlock returned the embrace, desperately grasping onto the fabric of the shirt. He had tried to be strong, but the sorcerer couldn’t deny he was thankful for the comfort. All his resolved dissipated as his friend’s strong arms wrapped themselves around him. 

Arthur loosened his grip on the brunet. Placing his hand along his cheek, he slid his fingers underneath the man’s jaw. He caressed Merlin’s face, pulling it up to force the sorcerer to look at him. Slowly, the King placed his lips upon the others mouth. The kiss was not like the any previous, filled with uncontrollable want and lustful desire. No, this kiss was a kiss of feelings. Arthur never kissed anyone like he was kissing Merlin in that moment. It was hard to describe. Everything was fuzzy and warm. He felt complete. For the first time in a long time, he was not the center of his life. The movement of his lips against the other’s face held all his care and attention. The world moved as though it revolved not around him, but around Merlin. The self-center King was, for the moment of a kiss, no longer selfish. 

Arthur pulled back to breathe. He was panty, struggling to find air. He rested his forehead against Merlin's, getting lost into his deep blue eyes. By time to time he placed pecks of kisses on the brunet's face, covering his cheeks, chin, nose, and all his other features, with all the tenderness and caring he felt for the man. 

He rubbed his nose against Merlin’s before reuniting their mouths one more. Brushing his tongue along the other boy’s lips, he demanded an entrance, something the brunet gave him gladly. He explored the sorcerer’s mouth slowly, dancing with the other tongue. It wasn’t about dominance or desire. It was about care. Arthur tried to communicate all his feeling through the kiss, using it to comfort the pain he had seen in Merlin’s eyes only a few moments earlier. He felt the arms around him tightened as he lost his fingers in the brown hair. He grabbed a fistful of the locks as he pulled the other’s mouth closer, if that was even possible. His other wrapped itself around Merlin’s waist tightening their embrace. The sorcerer moaned into their kiss as he pulled on the knight’s shirt, sending shivers down the blonde’s body. 

Arthur shifted his body, lying the warlock underneath him. He admired the flushed look on Merlin’s cheeks. Smiling, he kissed the corner of his mouth. Such gestures showed nothing more than innocent affection. He trailed the path from the corner of the wizards smile to his earlobe, tendering mouthing on it, his teeth barely grazing the skin. The King heard his servant’s held back moan escape his lips in a silent exhale, feeling the breath die onto his neck.

Merlin’s wandering hands found their way onto Arthur’s back, grazing the small portion of flesh exposed between his trousers and his shirt. He pushed the sheets off his shoulders, free to move his hands around. The blonde suddenly felt displeased with the amount of clothing they had as he removed his top. His thumb began to tease the side of his hips, playfully making their way higher under the shirt. Merlin pulled himself up, helping the King with his undressing. As the piece of clothing passed above his head, Arthur returned his attention on Merlin’s body, barely biting the tender flesh where the neck and collarbone met. 

He licked his way down to one of the warlock’s nipples, sucking on it. With a flicker of his tongue, it harden under the care. He waited a moment before moving onto the other. Arthur was satisfied only when his work caused Merlin’s breath to be completely out of control. 

He cupped the sorcerer as he placed a tail of kisses down his chest. Merlin’s boxer briefs were carefully taken off. The King looked up at the wanting boy who was lying beneath him. Staring into the sorcerer’s eyes, he licked along the sensitive vain underneath the hard member, only breaking their gaze when he engulfed its head in his mouth. His tongue carefully contoured the top of the member, digging a way underneath the sensitive skin. He calmly hummed as he began to lower his head, the vibrations adding to the sensations he was giving his partner. 

Arthur’s movements were slow, painfully slow. His own hardness caused him great desires, but he did not allow that to distract him. The only thing that mattered to him right now was Merlin. He cared for nothing else. His fingers massaged the brunet’s thighs as he sucked him tenderly, glad with the sounds of pleasure coming out of his friend.

Merlin’s left hand buried itself in Arthur’s hair, desperate to touch him as he received such delight. His other one pulled on the bed’s headboard. The warlock was beginning to lose his mind in the pleasurable sensations. He moaned the blonde’s name as his breath was running short. His eyes were shut with pleasure as he felt himself approaching the edge.

Arthur wasn’t ready to let Merlin cum right yet. He now knew where the sorcerer kept his lube. Climbing up the brunet’s body, he kissed him tenderly as he searched through the nightstand’s drawers for the bottle. He returned to his work, prepping the warlock for him. He took Merlin in his mouth one more as he inserted one finger into him. Pulling in and out, he looked for the spot that would make the brunet go crazy. He added a second finger and could tell Merlin was enjoying it as he felt him grab a handful of his hair with a little more roughness. The wizard didn’t know if he should thrust up into Arthur’s mouth or push down onto his fingers. The mixed sensations were enough to make him go mad with pleasure, his breath now a full on moaning pant. 

Arthur placed himself at Merlin’s entrance. He placed one hand on the man’s cheek, pulling his face closer for one more kiss as he pushed in. The King could feel the vibration of the other’s moan into his mouth. He himself was now whispering cries of pleasure. Thrusting earnestly, he tried to mend the wounds with the care he placed in every movement. He kissed the warlock with every push, trailing a path from his ear to his mouth and down his neck only to start it over again. 

“A- Ar- Arthur,” the brunet tried to speak, his speech cut with moans. His fingers scratching the back he was desperately holding onto. “I love you.” 

The words themselves were enough to bring the knight close to the edge. He lost himself in the blue eyes that were lovingly staring at him. He replied to the confession with another kiss as he released into the brunet. 

“Merlin,” he cried as he trusted deeply, making the warlock cum with him. He gently sucked on the wizard’s lower lip before abandoning himself in the depth of the kiss.   
They collapsed onto the bed as they finished their orgasms. Arthur laid by Merlin’s side, pulling his body closer to him. With his hand around his waist, he spooned the brunet. The sorcerer placed his hand over the blonde’s closing his fingers between the others. The King placed a kiss onto the shoulder in front of him as the both peacefully returned to sleep. Arthur fell into slumber with a smile on his face.

There were no more nightmares. The night was calm as they took comfort in the other’s closeness, cuddling even as they dreamed. It didn’t matter what had happened before. They didn’t care that the room was a wreck and the floor covered in broken glass. All that mattered was that Arthur was holding tightly onto Merlin as their breaths matched up during their slumber.


	7. Merlin POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finals are coming!!! The joys of being a student... I have so much studying to do in the next three days of my exam period that I will not be able to post a new chapter until the 20th. I am sorry have to leave you waiting. I simply won't have time to edit and publish my work. But I will be back soon. Until then, I do not own Merlin, no matter how much I wished I did.

_You Shook Me All Night Long from AC/DC_

Merlin woke up on the edge of his bed, half of his body hanging out. He rolled his eyes. Of course Arthur had rolled around in his sleep, lying in the middle of the bed and was taking all the space. He looked around, noticing that there was light in the room. Had he really slept passed the sunrise? The warlock couldn’t remember when that had last happened. 

As he saw the state of the room, he remembered the nightmare that caused the wreckage that surrounded the bed. And then he remembered what had happened after that. He smiled as the memories of how caring Arthur had been. That night had been nicer than his wildest dreams. In all his fantasies, Merlin had never expected the King to treat him with so much tenderness. 

He looked at the figure sleeping to his right. Arthur’s mouth was wide open, a little drool on the side of his mouth. His hair was pointing in every possible direction. The sight made the brunet laugh. Merlin had missed seeing the sleeping face of his King. In Camelot he took it for granted, having a chance to laugh at his friend daily as he began his day of work. Those simple moments held an innocent amount of joy. He realized that now, as he looked at such familiar sight. Well, the sight was not that familiar. Usually Merlin would be standing next to the bed with breakfast ready to be served. He had never found himself naked sharing the sheets with the source of his amusement. 

Once he was sure Arthur was asleep, Merlin whispered a few words. His eyes flashed gold. The glass shards in the room started to fly, making their way to the trash can as the furniture repositioned itself properly. The sorcerer smiled to himself, satisfied. He double checked the blonde head next to him, still asleep. He knew there was no need to hide from Arthur anymore, but somehow it felt more comfortable like this. When his friend was alive, he had dreamed of the day he could just be who he was out in the open. Now that he could, he didn’t quite understand what was holding him back. He knew that the King had worked hard to accept the truth, reflecting on himself. Merlin had been there to witness his turmoil as he faced the news first hand. The sorcerer concluded that he was going to have to try, just as Arthur had. He had to try to be honest and push through the awkwardness. 

His hand slightly tremored. _No_ , he thought as he used the other to immobilize it. This wasn’t going to happen. He wasn’t going to allow it. Merlin shook the thought out of his head, lying back down next to Arthur. He snuggled up against him. _It going to be fine_ , he told himself. _Fine_ , he repeated as he breathed in the blonde’s smell. _Fine._

Arthur slowly woke up, grunting as he opened his eyes. “Well that took quite some time,” Merlin said. “Rise and shine”

“Still!” the knight commented. “Centuries have passed and you haven’t found anything new to say?”

“You told me not to change. ‘I want you to always be you’ remember?”

“You didn’t have to take it so literally. Some small changes are usually refreshing.”

“Yes, this is quite refreshing,” the sorcerer whispered, as he kissed the tip of Arthur’s nose. He then got up rapidly. “Come quick.” He put on a pair of dark pants and slid on a purple shirt, not forgetting the usual scarf folded against his chair. “I’ve been waiting for an hour to have some breakfast. I don’t want to wait another minute,” he stated as he ran out of the room. 

Arthur smiled before getting out of the warm sheets. Merlin was such an idiot, but the good kind of idiot. The one that makes you smile. 

“You could have gotten some food even if I was sleeping,” he screamed to the figure in the kitchen. 

“And leave you to wake alone. No. Not after last night,” he winked. The knight often wondered how Merlin could be so shipper early in the morning. His mood always spread around, almost contagious.

“I’m afraid we just have cereal this morning. I really need to get some groceries,” the brunet stated as he served two bowls. 

“Where?”

“At the mall”

“Where we went yesterday?”

“Yes”

“You’ll be going by your own,” Arthur spat, making Merlin laugh.

“I thought as much”

***

Merlin tried to concentrate on the road ahead of him, but it was hard to do so when a thousand thoughts went through your mind. Was Arthur going to be alright alone in the flat for a few hours? Maybe he should have ordered the food online and waited for it to be delivered. He could have stayed. No, Merlin had more than just an ordinary shopping trip and he had to do it. 

He parked near the door as he gathered the courage to walk in. He could hear Arthur’s voice mocking him. _Don’t be such a coward Merlin._ This had to be done, especially after a night like the one he had just lived. The wizard wasn’t going to let this come bite him in the ass later on. With a deep breath he walked in. He pushed through the isles, picking up what he needed, fearing the moment it would happen.

“Merliiiiiin,” a voice screamed from behind him. _It’s now or never_. He turned around.

“Merlin I’ve called you over a thousand times. Why didn’t you answer any of my call? Or texts? I’ve even e-mailed you for Christ sake,” said the voice. 

In front of the sorcerer was standing a tall man with long brown hair. He had a ‘morning after’ beard, just dark enough to begin to show. He was wearing all black with an ugly grocery clerk jacket. 

“Glen” he sighed. 

“I’ve been worried” he tenderly grabbed the sorcerer’s arm. But Merlin pulled away.

“There is no good way of saying this,” he paused as he took a deep breath. “We’re over”

“What!” he muttered in surprise. “What do you mean?”

“I mean we are done. I am breaking up”

“Why? What did I do?”

“It’s not y-”

“Don’t give me the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ crap because that’s complete bullocks,” he interrupted. 

“Look Glen, we were never serious. I told you that when we began sleeping around. ”

“It’s your ex isn’t it?” he protested

“Pardon me?”

“Your ex! Arthur! I’ve heard you say his name in the middle of the night,” he angrily spat.

“We never had anything okay? Loneliness mending loneliness. Don’t act like we had something. This was nothing”

“Maybe for you” he whispered, sadder than frustrated now. 

“Glen” Merlin pitied.

“I should have known better,” the store clerk said to no one. He placed a hand on the wizard’s face. “Your heart was elsewhere. I knew I’d never make you mine. But I still hoped”

“I’m sorry Glen,” he told the boy as he walked away.  
“I’m not going to give up on you so easily,” he yelled as Merlin turned out of the aisle. The brunet did not stop. The conversation was like their relationship, finished.

The warlock paid for his purchases and left as fast as he could. He didn’t feel sad. He had no regrets. Their relationship was nothing more than a few booty calls and drunken nights in the bars. Merlin only felt sorry for the man. Glen knew from the beginning that Merlin wasn’t interested. Never had he led him on. But still somehow the sorcerer had hurt him. He started the car, heading back to Arthur. He thought of Glen no more. Merlin was use to it by now, with the centuries he had broken many hearts. Glen was not the first one to be hurt, but the warlock promised himself that he would be the last. 

The sorcerer plugged in his car's Bluetooth and called the King. The line answered and he heard a grunt. "Just work you stupid magic box," an annoyed Arthur screamed into the receptor. 

"It's not magic," the brunet laughed. "It's technology".

"Everything in these chambers works on technology." He could hear the grimace on Arthur's face.

"I'm just calling to check on you, make sure you're alright," he explained

"Merlin you idiot, of course I am fine. I can take care of myself"

"Yes, that's why you had a servant for the most of your life," he teased.

"Very funny" he replied with nothing but seriousness.

"I have a few more stops to do. I'll be back soon."

"See you then"

"Goodbye" 

"How do you close this godda-" the lined cut, making Merlin laugh.

He had one last purchase to do. The warlock entered the small shop at the corner of his street. A greeting bell rang as he opened the door. “Well hello Emrys” greeted the cashier. She was wearing a green long tube dress with to many jewelry attached around her body. The numerous bracelets and necklaces clashed together as she stepped closer to him.

“Hi Laura” the wizard replied. He took a moment to admire the new inventory the store had received. There were energy crystal lit in every corner as the smell of sweet incents burned in the room. “How can I help you today” the lady asked.

“I’m looking a healing spell”. He replied

“We just got a delivery of raw jades. That should be great for health in the household, especially when placed in the kitchen” she advised, pointing to the massive green rocks behind her counter.

“I’m afraid I need something stronger than a stone,” the sorcerer replied. 

“Ah, a powerful spell you need”

“Indeed,” he sighed. Laura ran to the wall at the far end of the store. She came back a few moments later. 

“This might help you. It’s the oldest healing magic book we have,” she explained as she dropped a massive brick onto the counter. It was huge. The pages had turned yellow with the time. He patted the book’s cover, caressing the black leather. The title read _Healing, recovery, and well-being; an extensive magic spell books for the world of medicine._ It was old, very old. He read the first pages. They were not in modern English. The pages were fragile. _This might date from the old religion_ , the wizard though. He smiled youthfully, suddenly filled with hope.  
“If there is something that can help me it’s definitely in here,” he stated as he closed the cover. 

“I’m glad to hear you say that. It’s a reference book so it’s part of the private collection.”

“Why would you show this to me. If it’s part of the collection then I can’t buy it,” he grunted.

“You can bring it back in a week,” she said. 

“Thank you” he smiled.

“I’m trusting you Emrys,” she warned. “You better return it to me.”

“Of course Laura. Have I ever deceived you before?” he laughed as he got out of the store.

***

Merlin walked into the flat. His heart leaped as he did not see a blonde head running around the living room. He heard the sound of running water. Was Arthur taking a shower? A peep in the bathroom confirmed his ideas. He licked his lips, a thousand unhealthy ideas crossing his mind. He gazed towards the shadow that was hiding behind the curtain as the room filled with the mist of hot water. He bit his lip as he turned around. He could use these few moments alone. The shower wasn't going to disappear. Another opportunity would come to him. At least that's what he told himself to find the needed strength to walk away from the scene.

He sat on his bed and pulled out his book from his bag, getting lost in the secrets of their pages. It took all of the warlocks' concentration to turn the pages without trembling. He clenched his fist angry with himself. He felt fine. His mind was clear and for once in a very long time, his heart was not plagued with the pain of grief. He didn't feel the sinking weight on his chest that had made it so hard to breathe any longer. No, he felt well, better than he had been in the past thousand years. But his body was not well. As his spirit felt relieved, his body was breaking down. Merlin was losing control of his physical means. His hands shook more and more as time passed while his breath grew shorter. He had started to fell heatwaves, breaking in sweat in the middle of the night. Not to mention his nightmares were coming back, torturing his unconscious soul. 

He flipped through the parchment pages of his books furiously. There had to be a way to stop this, or at least slow down the process until he could find a solution. There had to be something in these goddamn pages, anything. Impatience was making him furious as he slammed the spell book of the bed. He grabbed his head, rubbing his hands through his hair. "Calm down", he whispered to himself. "Just calm down.” He inhaled deeply trying to regulate his respiration

"Merlin," someone called from above him. He looked up. Arthur was standing by the door frame. The sight was enough to make the man salivate. The King was standing tall; his shoulder leaned against the wooden frame. Water was trickling down his hair running down the muscular chest, defining the contour of the rock hard abdominals. The towel hanging around his waist was barely long enough to hold on him. His right thigh exposed by the short material. Merlin bit on his bottom lip. Oh how easy it would be to undo that towel. One small spell, he didn’t even to use words. It would pass for an accident, a very happy accident. 

“You’re having troubles reading a book. I didn’t know you were that big of an idiot,” the King smirked.

“You always were and always will be an arrogant arse,” he replied with a look of challenge in his eyes.

“I’m not the imbecile who gets pissed off at books”

“Such a supercilious prat”

“That’s a big word, Merlin,” he laughed.

“Yes I know it might be too big for your small head,” he exclaimed as the youthful smile that was unique to him spread across his face.

“Are you looking for me? Is that what you want?”

“And what if I was,” he teased.

“I’d take you down in a blow,” he answered confidently.

“I’d take you down with less,” he smirked.

“Oh you are so getting it,” Arthur replied before charging onto Merlin. The warlock tried to defend himself with a pillow, using it as a shield to block the knight’s hits. It worked well until Arthur tackled him. He fell on the bed, crushed by Arthur’s weight. The sorcerer knew he did not stand a chance against the King. Not without his magic. He had been the target practice of his training to many times to know better. But he wasn’t ready to give up just yet. He wiggled himself out of his trap and got off the bed. He turned around only to see Arthur standing on the other side. Stalemate. He took a step left, teasing the King. Left. Right left. Impatient, the blonde jumped above the bed. Merlin jumped in surprise as he ran away, his scream more of a laugh than a fright. But Arthur was quicker. He clocked his embrace around him, holding his harms down. “I’m not going to lose to such a dollop head” he shouted as tried to push against the muscles restraining. 

“I’ve told you a hundred times before _Mer_ lin. There is no such words a dollop head,” he replied condescendingly. 

“And _I’ve_ told you a hundred times it is idiomatic”

“Define dollop head,” Arthur asked as he turned his prisoner to face him. 

“In four words?”

“Shure”

“The man I love,” he answered in a breath. He pushed forward to a tender kiss on the dollop head’s lips, testing the terrain. One small kiss, and then another, soon Arthur was returning them. The blonde pushed the small body he held in his arms, slamming Merlin against the wall. The furniture against it trembled as the crash of their bodies met resistance. The warlock moan loudly as the breath in his lungs escaped him. He pulled on Arthur’s hair; grabbing fistfuls of the blonde locks as kissed him back. Their tongues danced together. He fought for dominance but rapidly he was beaten into submission. Merlin allowed it, for now at least. He jumped and wrapped his legs around Arthur’s waist. The King went along, holding his by the tights as he began to bite Merlin’s neck. The teeth were not gentile. The warlock could feel the mix of pain from the bite mark and pleasure from the tongue massaging the tender flesh. He would have bruises in the morning, he could tell. 

The hand that was still in Arthur’s hair pulled it violently, forcing the knight’s head to move back. The King did not have a chance to let out a grunt for Merlin had already attacked his mouth. Indeed, the sorcerer was earnestly exploring his partner’s mouth, taking control of the kiss. He sucked on the other’s tongue, a promise of what was to come. He bit down on Arthur’s lower lip, pulling on it as the King grunted.

Arthur had had enough of the wall. He needed to let go of Merlin’s thigh and touch him, touch him everywhere. He dragged him away as they both dropped on the bed, breaking their kiss only for the moment it took to absorb the shock. Merlin untied his scarf as Arthur began to pull off his shirt. The warlock found himself naked so fast he didn’t know who had taken off his pants. The King was holding the warlock’s wrist above his head, making him immobile at completely at his mercy. Arthur smiled at the thought that Merlin was completely dependent on him for all his pleasures. He bit his way down to one of the brunet’s nipples, teasingly licking it. He was going so painfully slow that Merlin could have screamed in sexual frustration. Instead he moaned. He moaned louder than necessary, knowing his screams were affecting Arthur. He could feel the King’s hardness along his tight. He found himself pushing up by time to time, just enough to make Arthur a little more uncomfortably impatient. Ah yes, Merlin also knew how to be a tease and he was determined to win. 

He wiggled his wrist, trying to get himself free, but the King did not allow him to as he held on tighter, digging his nails into his flesh. Darn. Merlin had to find another way to get the upper hand. He wrapped his legs around Arthur once more, pushing his hips to the side. 

In a single move, Merlin found himself on top of the knight. They had passed the point of playing fair a long time ago. To win he would have to pull out all the dirty tricks he knew. With a whispered spell he readied himself for Arthur. Slowly he lowered himself down, pulling his head back in a moan. He grazed his nails on the blonde’s chest as he moved back up. The King had been caught off guard. He did not expect Merlin to move in the way he did. Not that he was complaining. It felt too good to fight. The warlock began to do small hip roll as he moved up and down Arthur’s hardness. He was driving the blonde crazy and he knew it. Hands on his hips guided his bounces, wanting, needy, desperate. Nails were dug into his skin, demonstrating all the burning desires and want. Arthurs met him with heavy thrusts, pushing up as the brunet pulled down. Every push given by the King left the sorcerer a little more out of breath. 

Merlin looked at the man beneath him, licking his lips and biting them down. He gave the blonde a glance of cockiness. He had one. Victory was his. He had the upper hand and the knight was going to taste it. He clothes his eyes as he muttered the King’s name with a teasing voice filled with lust and passion. “Arthur,” he screamed in pleasure. “Arthur, my condescending clot pole”. 

“Merlin, you imbecile buffoon,” the knight accused as he came up, finding himself in a seating position under the brunet. “Don’t let your guard down so easy,” he added. 

The sorcerer had cried victory to early. He was now losing, and losing fast. But he didn’t mind, not anymore, not now that he was so close to the edge. Arthur had begun to pump him ferociously. Merlin’s resolved disappeared when the King continued to bite his neck, leaving a trace of bruises along the path his mouth explored. The warlock’s legs began to shake in pleasure. His body wanted to give in. He didn’t let himself. He wouldn’t lose. But Arthur was now moaning his name. 

“ _Mer_ lin” he whispered as he bit the sorcerer’s earlobe. “Merlin, oh Merlin”. 

Hearing his name whispered with such was enough to break the last strain of determination in the sorcerer. He came violently, his body shaking with the power of his orgasm. Arthur smiled in satisfaction as he then allowed himself to join the warlock in the pleasure of release. 

They collapse onto the bed, Merlin lying on top of Arthur. He panted feverously, looking to catch his breath. “Wow,” the warlock whispered as he rolled onto his back. He rested his head on the blonde’s chest. “I should read books more often.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a reminder that I will not be posting the next chapter in two days like I usually do. It will come out sometimes on the 20th


	8. Arthur POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am back everyone. Ah and it feels good to be done with all my exams. Now it is time for lots of reading and writing fanfiction.  
> And as always I do not own Merlin, sadly.

_Peuple de Zenor by Faeria_

Arthur breathed in deeply. He had been right, him and Merlin, together; they could have the best sex ever. He had felt it when they had first hooked up and now he had experienced it. “I should read books more often” the warlock told him.

“Not too often, I don’t want you to hurt yourself” he laughed, pulling the brunet closer. He hugged the man. His heart started to beat faster and he hoped that Merlin didn’t notice. This was comfortable; it was all he could have wished for. Arthur had to admit he cared for Merlin, more than he ever cared for anyone. He had loved Guinevere, he truly had. His love for her had been pure and true. He had fought to marry her, risking peace with neighborhood countries many times just to be allowed to love her. Their relation had been a romance of a lifetime. 

But things with Merlin were different. Their story went beyond a life time. He held more importance in the King’s heart than anyone. They had found themselves together again after thousands of years and could be together as they always did… well… plus the sex. They were linked by faith, by destiny and were meant to be. His love for Merlin was like no other. It would last forever.

And Arthur wanted to tell that to Merlin. He needed to let him know. Merlin had told confessed his feelings many times now, and Arthur was unable to reply. The King never was a man of words, capable of expressing his feelings out loud. He had only been able to talk to Guinevere because of Merlin. He had been the one to help him find the words, suggesting the actions to take. Without him, Arthur doubted that his marriage would have gone so smoothly. 

Now how was he suppose to tell the warlock how his presence in his life made him smile. How, without him, he did not feel like the knight he had to be. Merlin had changed him for the better. Before the brunet entered his life, he was the arrogant prat he was accused to be, nothing more than a young kid that enjoyed being as condescending as possible. But Merlin had softened him. He had supported the knight in every situation. He could tell the brunet just how glad he was that he was here, in this life. Because Arthur was honestly worried that he might have came back alone, and seeing that stupid foolishly smiling face of his made everything a little better. 

He loved Merlin, more than he could believe, more he cared to admit. And he wanted to make sure the man knew just how much he loved him. But Merlin pulled out of his arms and got out of the sheets. His eyes followed the naked bum that walked around the bed. He stared at the collarbone that was now covered with bruises and hickeys. For the first time, Arthur was happy that Merlin wore that stupid scarf. 

“Get up,” Merlin ordered as he threw a tunic to Arthur’s head. The king grunted, not wanting to leave the comfort of the sheets quite yet. Was it that bad to be wanting seconds? Maybe, but it didn’t not take away the lustful ideas that wandered in his mind. “Common, no time to waste,” the warlock insisted. 

“Why?” he pleaded.

“Because I want to go out,” he explained. “Since you been back we’ve only seen the inside of the bedroom, not that I am complaining but, I want to do something”

“Do me one more time,” Arthur teased as he rolled onto his side, taking an erotic pose. 

“Arthur, I’m serious. I haven’t been staying at home doing nothing for this long since I lived with my mother in Ealdor. I need to be active, do something”

“You did nothing at Camelot plenty of times,” he argued as he pulled the shirt on top of his head.

“Nothing! You truly believe I was doing nothing,” he answered in shock. “If I wasn’t slaving away doing chores for you or running around doing errands for Gaius, I was busy trying to save your destiny and protect the citadel from the threat of dark magic. I was never lying around doing nothing”

“What about all those nights at the tavern,” the King asked, certain to have hit something.

“You still think I was at the tavern. Oh Arthur, those were lies to hide the fact that I was out all night doing whatever magic spell I needed to save you. Gaius has no inspiration with lies.”

“Really?”

“Do you really think I am that stupid?”

“Yes” he laughed.

“Common, we are doing something tonight,” he pulled on the knight’s arm. 

“I am not getting back into that death trap you people call car,” he protested.

“Where we are going we don’t need a car. But we will need your armor.”

Arthur was now intrigued. He got out of the sheets and began to dress himself. “But it’s not presentable right now. It isn’t even polished,” he mocked, a smirk on his face. Merlin whispered something with a deep voice and Arthur heard the clang of metal objects.

“It is now,” the warlock smiled. The knight’s mouth dropped, gob smacked.

“Did you just- Has it been-Ah.” Words were escaping him. Merlin enjoyed the situation, happy to show off. He tried to hide his prideful smile. 

“Is that how you did your chores in Camelot?” he asked.

“Some rare times,” the wizard smiled. “I couldn’t risk someone walking into the armory and see me ‘working’.”

Merlin pulled out some more clothes for Arthur and him. 

“It’s Friday night,” the warlock explained as he put on a pair of brown pants. “If we leave now we might make it on time for the banquet.”

“Where are we going,” a confused blonde asked. 

“At the end of the street there is a big park where a group of actors meet every weekend to have a medieval fair. It’s a popular tourist attraction”

“Medieval fair?” 

“It’s a great festival where people enjoy pretending to be living in the age of knights and magic. It’s quite funny.”

“And they do it here, by the lake of Avalon?”

“I might have pulled a string or two when they decided upon their location, convincing the committee that they should do it near.”

Merlin went to pick up the armor. He had placed it on Arthur a thousand times before, and was about to do it one more. The knight smiled. These small familiar gestures that they had done a thousand times before in Camelot were precious to them now. Of all the things he had when he was King, what Arthur had missed the most in his afterlife was the presence of Merlin. All the actions he had taken for granted had been what he craved most during his rest. 

“Merlin, are you shaking” the blonde asked. He could see that the brunet was having trouble tying the shoulder piece. Arthur pulled back and grabbed his friend’s hand. There was a slight tremor going through his body.

“Yeah, It’s a little chilly don’t you think” he explained as he stepped away. Merlin walked to his wardrobe and pulled out a shirt, getting dressed. 

It was weird for the warlock to put those clothes again. He had salvaged his old brown sweater and colorful shirts. He looked into the mirror as he tied his scarf. Seeing him in those clothes was such a flashback to the past. Then again, seeing Arthur in armor by his side was also disorienting. But Merlin wouldn’t change it for the world. 

The sight of Merlin dressed as the Merlin he had knew touched Arthur. He looked at the man as if he was all kind of wonderful. And maybe he was. He approached his friend. 

“Better,” the brunet said, pulling on his jacket. “Ready to go?” he asked, pulling Arthur out of his daydreams. 

“Yes” Arthur replied, grabbing his sword.

“You can’t take that,” Merlin protested. “Give the poor boys a chance. With your strength and that magic they will be crushed”

“My sword isn’t magic,” the King protested

“Yes it is”

“I would know, okay, I would know. It isn’t. Where would I have gotten a magic sword in Camelot anyway?”

“Arthur,” the sorcerer complained. “Do you really think I would have let you go to Camlann without some sort of magical advantage? You were fighting Morgana and Mordred remember.”

“You-” he stumbled. “Alright, I am not bringing it”. Merlin locked the door as they stepped outside.

“Am I ever going to stop discovering the truths one day?” Arthur questioned

“Someday,” the warlock answered. “But not any time soon.”

***

 

If Merlin wouldn’t have told Arthur the festival happened in a park he would have forgotten. The place was filled with tents and stands. Merchants were selling fancy jewelry and weak weaponry as men dueled and fought around them. The tent that represented the tavern was filled with drunken fools that were drinking cheap mead out of wooden cups, hitting on the bartenders as if they had a chance. 

Merlin pulled him towards the far end of the park, bringing him closer to the only standing building. It was made of four old brick walls and a poor roof. Some fancy decoration pieces were engraved into the building, making it look like it had towers and guard stations. Arthur had seen dungeons that looked better than this, but it was the closest scene to something he would call familiar, and for that he was grateful that it stood. 

“The real feast happens in the castle” Merlin explained

“Castle?” he stumbled. “That is not a castle. It’s nothing more than an old mead hall for the knights and guards.”

“Hush Arthur, let them believe”

“Calling that a castle is like calling you a good servant; its complete rubbish” he argued.

“I take offence to that.”

“You should. Your work was pretty offensive.”

“If I was that bad why’d you keep me” the sorcerer defended.

“For the laughs. You were wildly entertaining” the King answered. Merlin slightly shoved him. He replied with a full on push, almost making him fall to the ground. Luckily for the brunet, Arthur was feeling kind and caught him just on time, pulling him back onto his feet.

They arrived at the well, the people present called it the ‘gates of the castle’ but Arthur couldn’t bring himself to give it such a name. It was nothing more than a giant wooden door with two knights standing by. Merlin pulled two tickets from out of his pouch and gave then to one of the guards. The men pulled their lances, letting them pass. 

The looks on the inside was a lot better. A royal banquet was set on a large wooden table with food that was out of a dream. They found a spot where no one was sitting and began to eat. Sure, it was weird for Arthur to be sitting so far away from the end of the table, but what was weirder was to having Merlin seated by his side instead of standing by him with a pitcher of wine. His friend gave him a look, as if knowing what he was thinking. 

“Yes, this is happening. I’m staying here. There is no way I am standing up to work. It’s quite fun being served for a chance”

“Yes, especially when the servant is competent” he stated as someone filled his cup. “Thank you”

“Such a prat” he muttered.

“I heard that” he said as he took a sip of wine

“So what?” the warlock asked. “There’s nothing you can do about it tonight” 

“Oh there is plenty I can do about it” he implied with a teasing look on his face. Merlin blushed at the meaning of the sentence. 

A plate of meat was passed down the table. 

“My name is Robert” said the man to Arthur’s right as he gave him the plate. 

“Enchanted to meet you Robert, I’m Arthur and this is-

“Emrys” Merlin interrupted. The King gave him a confused look, but the sorcerer was begging him with his eyes to play along. 

“Yes, my friend Emrys” he repeated. The man was imposing. Merlin would have described him as big while Arthur would have said he was strong and hardy. He did not have any hair, which added to his menacing figure. He had two think dark lines going around his right bicep. A tattoo, the King recognized. He wore an impressive armor. It was something of a beauty, made for real fights, not like the pure decorative things he had seen a few lads wear outside. 

“Is it your first time to the fair?” he asked, trying to initiate small talk.

“It is indeed” he replied. 

“Then you are in for a show” he patted the blonde’s back. “The signer tonight, she is amazing. A voice of pure gold.”

“Can’t wait to hear it” he exclaimed. He had heard so many people who were ‘of pure gold’ but only a rare few actually did. 

“The fool is alright, but the real show tonight is in the spectator tent. The battle of champions gives a taste of what entertainment is to come in the tournament tomorrow.”

“Do tell me more” he was now intrigued. 

“The battle of champions is a one on one fight where anyone is invited to challenge our knights. If you can last ten minutes you are qualified for tomorrow’s joust. The few people who can stand on their feet after that try the melee on Sunday. The public loves it. It’s really worth watching. You should make sure to see it.”

“It seems pretty well, but I don’t want to see it”

“Why not?” Robert exclaimed, surprised.

“Because I want to be in it” Arthur smirked.

“Confident are we?” the man laughed. “For a first time comer I wouldn’t suggest participation” 

“Oh, but Arthur is no ordinary first timer” Merlin added, smiling wildly. The poor amateurs didn’t know what they were facing. 

“He comes with praise” Robert explained. “Well I am anticipating seeing you there. It will be my pleasure to test you in battle”

“You’re going to fight?” Arthur asked. 

“Indeed. I am one of the cofounders of this fair. The boys and I do this every weekend.”

“You set this all up?”

“And run it too. There are five of us who take on the role of knight to this place, serving as a standard to reach. We don’t want any unprepared man to get seriously injured during the shows. We offer classes during the week for people who want to learn the knightly ways.”

The men continued to talk until the entertainment began. The music began to play, and the lady sang. Arthur had to admit that she did have impressive talent, hitting notes that he heard only a few perform before. As desert was passed he turned to Merlin. 

“Why did you lie” he whispered.

“We can’t come to a medieval fair and introduce ourselves as Arthur and Merlin. No one will take us seriously.”

“It’s our names”

“And everyone here know it”

“You’ve lost me?” he was confused. 

“What you did in Camelot Arthur, people remember your story. It became legend. The greatest kingdom ever known.”

Arthur was gob smacked. Everyone knew his story. He did not believed what his friend was sayings. Legend.

“Well they remember most of the story, lots of details aren’t right” the sorcerer grumbled, unsatisfied about the way he had been remembered. “I’ll tell you about it one day” he promised. 

They finished their meal, entertained by the fool. Well, entertained was a big word. It was more like distraction. He was not very funny. The crown was laughing out of politeness more than anything else. 

“It was a pleasure to meet you, but I must go now” Robert excused himself as he got up. “I’ll see you during battle” he saluted. 

*** 

Arthur presented himself to the spectator’s tent, excited for the events to come. The last tournament he had participated in he had done so as a prince. He was so happy to be participating in another competition, looking forward to show off his talent. 

Merlin helped him prepared. Arthur did not even have to ask, the brunet was in the tent, readjusting the last parts of his armor. He gave him a sword, dull of course. It wasn’t his, it wasn’t perfect, but it was going to do. The King would crush them no matter what weapon he had. He could probably do it with a spoon. He had done it before when he had use one to threated Merlin. 

“Don’t be too hard on them” the sorcerer warned. “These men are amateur, doing it mostly for the show”

“And I will give them one hell of a show” the knight laughed,

“Arthur”

“What?”

“Keep some spike for tomorrow” he laughed nervously. “Don’t want to give it all away on the first day. It would make the competition boring.”

“Merlin, you’re shaking again” the King worried 

“Excitement” he smiled. There was something behind that smile, he could feel it, but he would worry about that another time. 

***

They took a seat and waited for Arthur’s turn. Most of the time, people would be eliminated in less than a minute. The contestant had to stay armed for a full ten minutes and manage to stay within the circle perimeter drawn on the floor. But as the challengers were eliminated, the competition got interesting. One man had fought so hardly he had managed to break his sword, making it split in half. The top part flew across the arena and logged itself in the ground as the crowed screamed and shouted. 

Arthur smiled as his name was called. He entered the circle smirking. Sword in hand he twisted it around, showing off as he waited for his opponent to join him. 

“Hello again Arthur” the balled man saluted.

“Ready to loose Robert”

“You have lots of confidence for a first timer” he exclaimed.

“I am no first timer. I’ve been trained for this since birth” he warned

“Then let’s get on with it” he stated. Robert charged onto him with a war cry that resonated in the room. That was his first mistake. Arthur blocked him in an instant. The man’s only chance to actually hit was the element of surprise but he had ruined it with his scream. The clang of iron sounded loudly as their weapons met with every hit.

The blonde twisted his sword, pushing his opponent way, but not disarming him. That would come later, when the show really began.

“I have to admit” Robert shouted as he swung his weapon onto Arthur’s face. He escaped the blow’s range easily. “You are not half bad.” Another blow was pushed in the blonde’s direction. “Dare I even call it decent”.

“You’ve only seen the beginning” Arthur stated as he entered the second part of his strategy. His defensive moves were over. It was time to attack. 

In one swirl he managed to find himself behind his opponent, hitting him in the back with the handle of his sword. He had fallen face first to the ground loudly under the spectator’s breaths of surprise. The King kicked his opponent’s sword away as he placed his own on the man’s chest. “I have to admit Robert, you’re not half bad” he mocked. “Though I wouldn’t dare to call it decent.” The spectators were now cheering heavily. Some where even whistling as they stood up to show their amusement. “Wildly entertaining maybe” he commented. “The crowd seems pleased”. He offered Robert a hand, helping him up. 

“I am impressed Arthur” he exclaimed

“Of course you are” 

“Come and see me after the joust tomorrow. I would love to talk with you. I might have something to offer you” he offered

“It will be my pleasure to see you after my victory at the joust.” 

He returned to the spectator stadium , joining Merlin for the rest of the show. “I thought I told you to go easy on them” the warlock protested.

“And I did” the knight replied. The blonde shook his head in disbelief. Arthur was never going to stop being cocky. The following battles were uneventful. It was hard to create excitement when one had to follow the King’s act. There weren’t too many contestant that had passed the challenge, twenty, twenty five at most. But those who did certainly deserved it. They had proven themselves qualified to partake in the joust. It would be a pleasant fight tomorrow, Arthur though as he left the tent. 

It was late and they walked home, not joining the party at the tavern. It was not a night for foolish drinking; there was a fight to be won the next morning. 

The King fell to bed, exhausted by the day’s events. He smiled as he thought of how his friend had brought him to the fair only for his pleasure. He had gone out of his way to set the event near the lake, knowing that one day, he would come back. He pulled the brunet near him, holding him in his embrace. The sorcerer laid his head in the dim of his shoulder, slowly sinking into sleep. He looked at the face so close to him, his heart filling with warmth.

“Merlin” the blonde called.

“Yes Arthur?” he answered, his attention elsewhere, half asleep. 

“Merlin” he repeated with a deeper voice. The warlock turned towards him.

“Yes” he moved, pulling himself out of sleepy comfort to hear his friend

The King took a deep breath. “I wanted to let you… I wanted to let you know…” he stumbled.

“What are you trying to say?” The wizard asked impatiently.

“Words” he replied

“Words?”

“Feelings” he mumbled. 

“Feelings?”

“For you” his cheeks were now bright red. Arthur Pendragon was one of the bravest knights in Camelot, always courageous in battle and unafraid of sacrifice it if meant protecting his people. But, at this moment, Arthur was acting cowardly, unable to say simple words. “I’m trying to say that I have feelings for you” he repeated. With a loud swallow he continued. “You are one loyalist person I know. You’re presence by my side changed me more than you would believe. You gave me the strength to follow my heart and not the ideas that had been forced into my head. And it is because of you that I can tell what is in my heart today. I-” he stumbled. “I love you Merlin.”

The warlock approached him, placing a kiss on his lips, a kiss of care and affection. “I love you too Arthur Pendragon.”

The King held Merlin tighter, feeling him closer as they both smiled their ways to sleep.

Arthur woke up as he heard tormented murmurs coming from underneath him. Merlin was trembling slightly, complaining plaintively. _Another nightmare,_ the knight concluded. He ran his fingers through the brown locks of hair, comforting the sleeping man. “Hush” he whispered. “It’s alright Merlin, it’s alright”.   
It worked. The expression of fear that plagued the warlock’s face dissolved into peaceful rest. Arthur kissed the top of the sorcerer’s head as he patted his back. “It’s alright” he said once more, closing his eyes. He did not concentrate on the worry that was growing in him. He would deal with these thoughts in the morning, now it was time to go back to bed. They slept peacefully for the rest of the night.


	9. Merlin POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Everyone!! I just had the longest day of road trip, spending over 12 hours on the road nonstop. For a moment I was worried I would not make it to a decent internet connection on time to publish this chapter, but luckily for you, I made it. 
> 
> Now I know what I want for Christmas, I want someone to give me the rights to Merlin, so I won't have to remind you all that I don't own the show.

_King And Lionheart by Of Monster and Men_ because it wouldn’t be a Merthur fanfiction without that song in it at least once.

Merlin woke up first, as always. He slowly left the room and entered the kitchen, being as quiet as possible. Arthur could use the extra few minutes of sleep. He had a big day ahead of him and the sorcerer knew that nothing would stop the King from showing off all he could do. He was that kind of prat. 

He planned on doing a breakfast for an army, filling them both with the energy they would grandly need for the day. Opening the coverts, he reached for the pates on the top shelve. He held them in his hand as he went towards the table to set it up.

That’s when his head began to spin. Merlin was dizzy. His vision blurred for a moment. Was it he who was slightly shaky or did the world around him actually move on its own. His knees weaken and he could feel he was about to fall. He dropped the plates. They clanged on the ground, unbroken. Merlin’s hands reached for something to support. He grabbed the granite counter, steading himself. He rested his body against the drawer, using it to rest his hips. It was getting bad again. He took a moment to breath, waiting for the feeling to pass. His body was covered in cold sweats.

Paranoid, he looked up towards the bedroom, terrorized at the idea that Arthur might come out at this moment. He hoped, he prayed, he begged that he had not woken up his friend with all the noise. It would be impossibly hard to cover this. There would be no lie, no explanation he could give to justify what had happened. The King was already unconfident with the previous excuses he had given him. The sound of a loud snore resonated from the dark room, relieving the warlock from the nervous stress on his shoulders. 

Arthur wasn’t that dumb, Merlin knew that much. Sooner or later he would find out the truth. The warlock tried his best to make it happen later; doing his best to buy himself the time he needed to fix himself. Maybe he could figure a way to deal without Arthur finding out. 

He picked up the plates, his hands still shaking. They hadn’t shattered of chipped, thank goodness. He placed them onto the table, returning to his routine. He would allow this to take control of him, to change his daily life, to ruin his plans. So Merlin continued to prepare breakfast, denying that anything had happen, denying the worry that grew deep inside him. 

“It smells great. How delicious Merlin,” Arthur exclaimed as he entered the kitchen. He was wearing nothing more than his trousers. Arthur rarely slept dressed, the warlock should know better by how, but he still let his eyes wander as the King sat at the table. 

“Very delicious,” he teased, staring at the beautiful sight in on the chair front of him. Arthur smiled ironically at the statement, unamused by the compliment. There were more important things to do today, like prepare for battle.

“You’re noisy in your sleep, did anyone ever tell you that,” Arthur said with a mouthful of eggs. Merlin’s heart jumped in his chest. What had happened again? Had he used magic while sleeping? Gaius had warned him against that a thousand times in Camelot.

“What do you mean,” he asked with his stomach in a knot. 

“You keep complaining about god knows what,” he answered. “At least this night’s nightmare didn’t seem as terrifying as the other one.”

“Oh,” he sighed. “That.”

“What do you mean ‘oh that’. It happens a lot?” the brunet didn’t reply. “Merlin” the King insisted. 

“It’s crazy what one can see in a thousand years,” he explained, hoping to get off the hook. 

“Is that how long it’s been? I was dead for a thousand years”

“A thousand five hundred” he corrected, hoping that it would help that the subject would put Arthur off. Neither felt comfortable talking about those long years separated.

They finished their meal in silence. The truth depth of Merlin’s weight was sinking in the air, weighing much on both men’s shoulders. Somehow the sorcerer wasn’t sure that the King had bought his story. He had thought against the test of time in order to be here with Arthur, winning against all the challenges it thrown to him. But now time was taking its vengeance, running out faster than Merlin could control. If he didn’t act soon, he would lose fast. 

“I assume you want to get back to the festival early,” Merlin stated as he broke the awkwardness

“Not more than that. No matter what time I show up, I will still crush them all,” he laughed. 

***

They left a few minutes later, making their way to the contestant’s tent. Arthur was one the first to fight. Good, he thought, not wanting to wait all day. He was anxious to go in the field, the type of nervousness that comes with excitement. 

“You seem on edge Merlin,” the King realized as his friend helped prepare. 

“I am not,” he defended, obviously lying. Merlin’s head was elsewhere, but it had nothing to do with the contest up ahead.

“You’re not worried for me, are you?”

“I never understood what the attraction was in such thing was. A bunch of tough knights running into each other with large pointy stick doesn’t seem very… useful, yet alone glorifying”

“Of course you wouldn’t understand, you’re not a knight,” he complained.

“I don’t need to be a knight to know that jousting is stupid but the people seem to enjoy nocking their heads off in the name of entertainment and the quest for glory.”

“Shut up _Mer_ lin”

“I mean I understood why people would do it back in Camelot. It was still stupid, but I understood the mentality. I understand why you’d want to partake in it, you’re from that time. But these people… there are so many other entertaining things in the modern world,” he rambled on as the tied up Arthur’s armor.

“Merlin, shut up,” the knight repeated. 

“It’s not like they just tried it out once for shits and giggles. These men have been training for months, maybe even years to compete. If they are looking for an adrenaline rush they would be doing a thousand other things, it’s not the forms of stupid outlet activities were missing nowadays”

“ _Mer_ lin,” he shouted. The warlock looked up towards his King only to have a pair of lips crash against his own. Surprised, but not unpleased, he returned the kiss, moving closer to the other’s body.

“Well that shut you up,” Arthur mocked when he pulled away. The warlock punched him.

***

They split ways as Merlin went to sit in the stadium, looking onto the battle field. He knew Arthur was no match for these modern days’ amateurs, but still a part of him was worried. This is what Merlin did, worry for Arthur when he foolishly placed himself in dangerous situation. After a lifetime of protecting the man in Camelot, the sorcerer wasn’t completely comfortable with the idea of letting Arthur run free towards a long and dangerous weapon. Had there been any tournaments that had ended well without his magical intervention anyway? As the physician’s assistant he had seen firsthand the type of injury such activity could create. So Merlin sat in the front row, ready to intervene if necessary, hoping it wouldn’t be necessary. 

He found himself cheering with the spectators as Arthur entered the battle field. The crowd had not forgotten him yet. After yesterday’s battle of the champions his name had been remembered and this moment strongly anticipated. Everyone was excited to see how the stranger was going handle the joust. 

No matter how stupid Merlin believed the activity to be, he could not hide his excitement when Arthur succeeded the first round. He defeated opponents after opponents as the joust became more challenging with every new fight. 

“Still impressing me,” a voice resonated as a figure entered their tent. “If this goes on we will be fighting each other soon enough”. Merlin turned to see Robert standing by the door, his helmet under his arm. 

“I hoped as much,” Arthur said. “That way I might have a real opponent.”

“Yes, it would be a shame to lose to one of those amateurs.”

“Well then I will do my best to save you that shame and make you lose to someone who is actually competent.” Arthur taunted. Their rivalry was nothing serious, just two hard headed prats clashing together. It made Merlin laugh to see just how ridiculous the men were being. 

“Don’t forget to come see me after you fall off your horse. I still have an offer to propose to you.” The man presented his hand, a movement that Arthur took gladly, grabbing the man’s wrist. They shook hands as Robert left the tent. 

“An offer,” Merlin enquired. 

“I have no idea what he wants,” the King explained, “but it ought to be interesting”

“Surely,” the warlock replied, cautiously

“It’s my turn again,” the King pointed out. “A good luck’s kiss?” he asked. Merlin pulled himself closer to Arthur, tempting him before pulling back. “As if you needed luck to win this.” 

He exited the tent, smiling at his tease. It made him happy to make the knight crazy, a constant reminder of how much Arthur wanted it, wanted him. 

He returned in the stadium, cheering with the crowd as Arthur came out once more. Robert was standing tall on his horse. His weapon was a piece of beauty. It was powerful and resistant A triumphant arm was engraved on the side of the wooden stick. He pointed towards it furiously, indicating to the crowd that he and his armory would come out victorious. This fight promised to be interesting. 

The knights took their positions and charged into battle. Merlin was sitting at the edge of his seat, anticipating the impact of bodies. He did not expect Arthur to be the one to be hit the hardest. He gasped as his friend almost lost control of his horse. But the King did not fall, not yet. The opponents placed themselves, ready to charge once more. This time Arthur was the one to hit strongly. Both men were shocked and weakened. The decisive blow was about to be made. The crowd fell silent as the King fell to the ground. Merlin jumped up, running towards the tent as his friend was carried away. 

Arthur had lost. He couldn’t believe it. He rushed by the sea of people standing around, gossiping about the scene that had freshly unfolded before their eyes.

“Arthur” he entered in the tent screaming. The man was lying on the table. Rapidly, the warlock scanned him, using his magic to find any wounds. He was relieved when he found only a few insignificant bruises. The only think that had been injured was Arthur’s pride. 

“This is what happens when I don’t get my good luck kiss” he pouted. 

Merlin grabbed his face and kissed it roughly, glad the man he loved was alright. “This should be enough luck for a life time,” he smiled, placing another peck on the blonde’s lips.

 

“I guess I am a little rusty. I have a thousand five hundred years to account for,” he justified.

“I’m not sure it works that way, but if it helps your ego,” the warlock smiled. 

Merlin helped Arthur undress, taking of his armor slowly. He placed his lips on every bruise he encountered, kissing the pain away for each injury. The warlock waved a hand towards the tents entrance. His eyes flashed gold as the door closed. They would be alone for a few more moments, undisturbed until the end of the next joust. He slowly pulled out the King’s trouser, exposing his half-hard member. _It won’t stay half hard for long_ , the warlock thought.

“Merlin, we can’t do this now. Someone could walk in and find us,” Arthur protested.

“Not if you keep quiet,” he smirked as he licked the blonde’s thighs, slowly moving towards his center desire. He put Arthur’s hardness into his mouth, releasing it as quickly as he took it, teasing. The King was shaking, wanting; his anticipation exciting him, and Merlin loved it. He enjoyed the power he was holding over him, rejoicing over the pleasure he was holding back from the blonde. Teasingly, his tongue tracing the outlines of objects of desire. He licked up and down the tender vain underneath the blonde’s penis, engulfing everything but what Arthur truly wanted. His breath was getting frantic as he begged for the brunet to satisfy him. 

“If you scream I stop,” Merlin threated as he breathed onto Arthur, teasing some more. “You can’t make a sound or someone will find us.”

Arthur shook his head to express his understanding. The warlock smiled, taking him into his mouth. Arthur gasped, the pleasure driving his breath away. A moan escaped his lips when the sorcerer licked the base of his head as he sucked earnestly. When the scream came out of the knight he stopped his work, freezing in action. 

“Ah Arthur,” his whispered seductively, “we agreed there’d be no noise.” The blonde grunted, frustrated with the situation. “No sound” he whispered. “Got it.”

Merlin returned to his work, humming around the hard member. The blonde breathed deeply, holding back another scream as he didn’t want the pleasure to stop. The conflicting pleasures were troubling the King. On one hand, it satisfied him so much to have the warm wetness of Merlin’s mouth work around him, but it frustrated him lots to be unable to express his satisfaction. Every grunt he accidently released made his heart leap. Was that too loud? Would it make the brunet stop? Oh please don’t let him stop. 

The risk from doing it so publicly was rewarding him greatly. Merlin put his hands down his pants. He touched himself. The fear of being caught doing something so private was making him exited as well. He wanked of, matching his strokes with the speed of his mouth. He looked up at the figure distraught with waves of pleasure, pleasure he was causing. The sight of Arthur trembling under him, submissive to his work, was making him harder by the moment. 

The knight plunged his hands in the brunet’s locks of hair, grabbing fistful of the soft strains. He was desperate for some sort of connection towards the warlock. At default of being able to call his name, he held him as tightly as he could without forcing himself upon the wizards.

Arthur could not control himself any longer. He was too close to the edge to hold back. “Merlin” he moaned loudly as he came rapidly, the force of his orgasm too strong to resist. 

The sorcerer swallowed him down, pulling out of him all that was left. Merlin looked up to his King, wiping the side of his mouth. He found satisfaction in the knowledge he had driven the King so wild, he could not contain his voice. The pleasures had been good, and they were worth having to spend the rest of the day with sticky pants. Who knew, maybe they would get a chance to clean Merlin next time. 

“I’ll get you back,” Arthur threatened as he caught his breath. “As a punishment for forcing me quiet I will make you scream.”

“Looking forward to that,” Merlin licked his lips. 

The sounds of the crowd began to resonate once more. The current joust must have finished, meaning that another wounded contestant would be brought into the tent. Arthur rushed to get dressed. They had tried so hard not to get caught; it would have been a shame to lose it now. 

“We should leave, clear this place for the new fallen contestant,” Merlin explained. The King had to agree, even if he wasn’t ready to get out of the comfort of the isolation allowed by the tent. Reminded by his failure, Arthur was in no rush to face the public, his ego still wounded by his unexpected loss.

The sorcerer grabbed his friend’s hand, pulling him out. “Common, we should go”

“When did you became so bossy,” the King complained

“Having problems with my ways, then please, take the lead. Go on, give the orders, be in charge, anything as long as we don’t stay here standing doing nothing”

“Fine, let find Robert,” he ordered.

“Yes my lord,” Merlin joked, a joked that obviously displeased the King.

“Shut up Merlin”

***

They found Robert in the tavern. At this time of day there weren’t many customers. The rare people there were enjoying a hot meal before returning to the show. The conversations around the table were some of pleasant encounters, their minds unsoiled by the great quantities of mead to be drunk. That would come later in the evening. 

Robert was easy to find. His hairless head stuck out in the small crowd. He was sitting at the table near the window, laughing about something his friend to his left just said. The echo of his deep resonated in the room as he banged his fist onto the table. 

"Arthur, Emrys" the laughing man called out. He waved his arms frantically, "Over here", he invited the men.

"Robert," the King saluted. "Good to see you"

"Please, sit with us," he pointed at the bench across from him and his friend. 

"This is Julian," he introduced. "Julian this is Arthur and Emrys"

"It's a pleasure to meet you," he exclaimed as he offered his hand. Arthur shook it gladly.

"The pleasure is shared," he stated. 

The man was small, but his height did not take away from his imposing physique. Julian's body was fit; with define muscles covering him from head to toe. He had light brown hair that was spiked upwards in an amateur Mohawk style. His lips were luscious making his face look like it was naturally pouting but the smile in his brown eyes showed that his heart was filled with joy as a child's would be. 

"Julian is one of my partners. He takes care of the public relations, making this place survive. He takes care of booking the classes and dealing with our employees. It's because of him that all the people here can enjoy the fair, guest like hosts."

"Don't put it so fancy Rob, I'm a secretary that deal with HR," he laughed. His voice was high for a man. There was a sense of adventure and excitement hidden somewhere in its tone. 

“And _you_ , don’t undermine your importance in this business,” the bald man added. “Anyway, I asked you to come here Arthur because I had an offer for you. After seeing you fight, we discussed. We would love to have you work with us.”

“Work with you,” the blond replied surprised. Merlin was also gob smacked. Arthur being offered a job, well that was something you didn’t see every day. 

“Indeed. We’d like you to join our ranks. For now, you’d assist one of us to give classes, but eventually you’d have your own students. Once every three weekends you would participate in the battle of champion, and maybe the rest of the tournament, if that interests you. The fair has grown in popularity in the last few years and our business could really use another knight. What do you think?”

“I think it’s a great offer,” he exclaimed in a smile. “But it’s all so sudden. I honestly wasn’t expecting anything like this.”

“I know it’s sudden. We ourselves weren’t expecting to find someone who was qualified in medieval fighting over a fair’s weekend. But your talent honestly impressed me and my partners,” Julian explained. “Take the weekend to think. We aren’t expecting an answer any time soon. Tonight is about having fun”

Robert ordered pitcher of mead and they discussed everything else but business. Merlin observed the three knights laugh at the things they had seen contestant do and discuss the better fighting techniques. They shared stories of battle with smile to their faces. Of course Arthur had to embellish the truth of his battle stories for the modern knights would have thought him mad to talk about ambushes with mercenaries and fights with magical creatures, but Merlin was always there to spit out a white lie that would make the situation a little more modern. 

The sorcerer smiled as he observed his friend having a good time. Arthur was an expression to be seen. It warmed his heart to see him smile and laugh. He was happy the King was so happy. Even if he didn’t particularly care about the ongoing conversation, he was thrilled it was happening because Arthur was thrilled it was happening, and that was all the warlock needed. 

After a few more cups of mead, they agreed to call it a night. It was getting dark outside anyway. “Don’t forget about us Arthur,” Julian reminded as he shook their hands goodbye.

“We are always in this park. You can find any one of us in the castle any time of day. I have a flat on the second floor so I am always here,” Robert added. 

“I will remember that,” the King exclaimed. “I bid goodnight to the both of you”

Merlin led the way out, guiding Arthur back to their home. The air had become chilly while they were inside the tavern. It sent a slight shiver up his spine and the boy was glad he had his scarf to keep him warm. He readjusted it, pulling it close to his neck. 

Arthur grabbed his hand, holding it as they walked by. The King might not be one for expressing his feeling or displaying his affection, but romanticism was a characteristic most knights had mastered. The warlock smiled at the gesture, his cheeks blushing slightly. He did not know if he was red because of the cold air or because his heart was pounding in his chest. None of it mattered when he was by the blonde’s side. His hand gave a squeeze in return. 

“Your hand is still trembling” Arthur noticed. “And your fingers are freezing” he petted the brunet’s hand with his thumb, feeling the soft skin.

“It’s quite cold tonight,” he justified.

The King pulled his hand away for a moment. He took off his large cape and placed it upon Merlin’s shoulders, trying to keep the boy warm. If Merlin thought he was slightly blushing before, he was not fully red. Arthur was being sweet and considerate. It was probable the mead that was making him looser, but Merlin didn’t mind. He always knew that, deep down, the King was caring and lovely.

“You’ve been cold and trembling a lot lately. Is everything alright?” he inquired, worried.

“I’m fine Arthur,” he replied with those lies again. How many times had he told the man he was ‘fine’ when truly he was everything but that? 

“It’s really alright. With all the years I’ve been through, my body doesn’t fight off winter as well as it used to” he added. That was his strategy now, to divert any notice to the time he had spent without the King. It usually made him uncomfortable and he didn’t dare continue on that line of conversation. 

The cape wasn't efficiently shielding the warlock from the cold but it certainly warmed his heart. Merlin smiled wildly as Arthur grabbed his hand once more. It took every ounce of concentration for the sorcerer to control his hand, desperately trying to make the King believe that his shake was solemnly due to the weather. This moment was so sweet he did not want the withdrawal to rob it from him.

Merlin started to walk slower, not enough for Arthur to notice, but just enough to make their moment alone last a little longer. He squeezed the fingers that were laced in his hand, returning the affection he was being given.

"What do you think of Robert," Merlin asked as they advance slowly

"He is nice," he hesitated. "Certainly, he is a strong knight. He would have done well at the round table in Camelot"

"You wished you could hire him, he wants to hire you," Merlin giggled. "This is very entertaining" 

"You are enjoying my confusing?" 

"A little bit," he admitted. "I'm just curious what you will answer"

"I honestly don't know," he whispered. "What's would you do?

Merlin wasn't sure he liked the idea. He had never been far from Arthur. Even when the knight trained he tagged along and kept an eye on his safety. Was he comfortable leaving him spend all day away on a battle field where weapons could easily cause an unfortunate accident? They still didn't know why the King had return nor when he would be needed. It didn't feel right to have Arthur wander by his own for hours in a day, even if it meant to go and train with modern knights.

He remembered that he had been the victim of so many ruthless training sessions, serving as a target practice. He did not particularly wish to repeat that experience. If Arthur could train without abusing him, Merlin would appreciate it. 

It would also help the King create relationship with fighting men. That was something that could be of great importance later on. They did not know what plague would hit modern Albion, which disaster caused Arthur to rise again. Maybe this position would allow the King to find men willing to fight with him. Arthur had that personality that made people want to give up their lives for his cause. It would be a good idea to have some sort of army to follow him against whatever he had been summoned for. 

But most of all, Merlin thought that this would give him some time alone. He loved Arthur and was happy to spend so much time by his side, especially in the way they had spent it together since he returned. But Merlin couldn’t deny needing some space. Not for relationship issues, no, Merlin would spend every living moment he had with Arthur if he could, especially after the past centuries of solitude. No. The warlock needed some time away to find the solution to his most imminent problem, the withdrawal he was experiencing. He couldn’t study the healing spells with the blonde around without letting him know what he was studying it for. He could try to lie, he had done as much until now. But he knew that, soon enough, the truth would come out, especially with the new proximity. He had to find the solution fast and maybe this space would give him the time he needed to do such without bringing the situation to King’s attention. 

“You, with a job,” he answered. “Well that would be something to see” 

“Merlin I’m serious,” he explained. “I don’t need your opinion you know that much”

“I know that. You spent half of your time in Camelot ignoring my advice”

“That’s because it was stupid advice from a dumb idiot,” he laughed.

“Or because you were that big of a prat”

“But the other half of the time I listen, take your word under consideration. So I ask again, and this time seriously, what do you think?”

“I think it’s a good idea,” he finally answered. “You came back for a reason Arthur. It scares me that we still don’t know what that is. Something is about to happen, it’s a question of time. At least with this position with the modern knights you get to train and stay ready for battle, if battle will be required.”

“I’m fighting fit,” he protested

“Yes, but since you came back the only person you are fighting is me,” he smirked at which type of fight that meant. “And it never hurt to have people to fight with you instead of against you.”

The warlock unlocked the door of the flat, welcoming the warmth of the indoors. Nights were getting colder as autumn got closer. The leaves were beginning to change and the air was quite chilly. Merlin was happy to find himself inside his warm home. 

“I’m do for a shower,” the brunet stated.

“Me first,” the King protested as he pushed his friend aside to beat him to the bathroom, locking the door behind him.

“Prat,” the warlock screamed across the door.

“It’s not my fault you’re too slow.” Arthur justified. 

Merlin sat on the bed, patiently waiting for his friend to come out, knowing that it would take forever. Arthur was a real diva in the bathroom, using all the hot water and wetting every surface around him. To be honest the knight was a diva in everything he did, expecting only the best for his royal arse. 

He saw his books, still on the ground. He hadn’t touched it since the last time he got mad and threw it across the room. It served as a reminder of why he was so mad in the first place; refreshing his memory to the problematic situation he was doing his best to forget. Out of sight, out of mind no? Well it sure wasn’t working because his mind would not let it go and his sight was constantly returning to it. 

Arthur was getting suspicious and Merlin feared it. All the things he had tried to fix things had failed. He was nowhere closer to finding a solution. He tried to push it out of his mind, to deny what was happening for so long. But now he was forced to face the truth, things were not only bad, they were horrible. 

Merlin looked at the drawer on his nightstand, pulling it open. The herbs were there, clean, clear, ready to use. Maybe is he took a little, not more than a puff, it would be okay. Just enough to stop the craving, just enough to satisfy his body’s withdrawals syndromes. He didn’t need to get high, he just needed to get something in his system. Just a little would be alright, just a little.  
With hands trembling, unsure if it was because of drugs or because of stress, he pulled the small bag out of his drawer. He rolled the herbs into a joint. The movement had become a reflex; he didn’t even have to think about what he was doing. Just a little he thought as he brought the splif to his mouth.  
But Merlin couldn’t take just a little, it wasn’t enough. One puff had turn into two, then three, then ten. Soon the whole thing was gone. It had been smoked faster than it had taken time to decide to light it. Before he knew it, he was out of control, giggling and smiling at the magical shapes that were appearing in front of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know. I am cruel of starting to instore some angst just on time for the winter holidays, but I promise it will all be worth it in the end.


	10. Arthur POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To those who celebrate something during this festive time of year, Happy Holidays! For the others, well have a nice few days off filled with horribly joyful music and painful shopping sales. To all of you I wish that you enjoy this angst filled chapter of my story. And once more, I do not own Merlin

_Too Much That I’m Asking For by Avril Lavigne_

 

Arthur’s shower did not last as long as it usually did. The King’s mind was filled with dirty thoughts of things he wanted to do during the night. Merlin was going to regret forcing him into silence earlier in the day. Well, regret was a strong word. He was going to enjoy it by the end; that Arthur was sure about. 

He got out of the bathroom, ready to put his plan into action, his mouth smiling at the images of his ideas crossing his mind. He got dressed with a light tunic and trousers that he had brought into the bathroom. Arriving half naked into the bedroom had been a good idea for him before for it had resulted in some of the best sex he ever had. But he dressed anyway, the pleasure of being undressed by the wanting hands of his partner was worth the extra trouble of initiating sexy time while wearing clothes. 

He walked out of the bathroom, expecting Merlin to rush in for his turn, and was surprised when he didn’t. The King heard some laughs coming from the bedroom. He approached it, worried, only to find the sorcerer lying on the bed, head hanging out upside down. Light shapes of many colors were floating around the room. Some of the figures were animals, other creatures the King would never had imagined too see.

“ _Mer_ lin,” he exclaimed out of surprise. 

“Aaaaaarthur,” he spoke slowly, turning around onto his belly.

The warlock was acting abnormally. He was acting like a fool, not the fool he usually was, but a drunken one. Things were wrong. The man was not drunk when they had left the fair. Arthur was pretty sure his friend had not drank that much when they were out in the tavern. What was wrong with Merlin?

He approached cautiously, uncertain of which move he would do next. His sexy thoughts pushed aside as he was inspecting his friend’s state. Merlin could barely move by himself, his body limp as he crawled out of the sheets. He wobbled towards him. The brunet grabbed his face, pulling his face closer. “Are you the real Arthur?” he asked with a whisper, inspecting the King’s eyes. 

“Merlin what do you mean?” he grabbed the wizard’s shoulders, trying to steady him. The brunet was so out of it he was afraid he would fall any moment. 

“You know, the real Arthur, not another hallucination.”

“Hallucinations,” he repeated with confusion.

“Oh-oh!” the warlock exclaimed. “You don’t understand. You’re the real one.” 

Arthur had never seen Merlin in such a state. He changed his strategy. The man was obviously so out of it he couldn’t keep his thoughts private. He pushed Merlin onto the bed, forcing him to sit on the mattress. Behind the brunet he saw some stain on the sheets. A dark spot that was damaged by ashes rested on the pale blanket. He pulled them closer, finding a white stick. He recognized the thing, some people from the other world told him about the product. Drugs. He observed them, pulling the joint apart. The herbs inside of it were unknown to him.

“What is this,” he asked as he shoved the product in Merlin’s face, a little more angry than he should have been.

“That’s nothing,” he laughed off, pushing his arm out of his way, but the King did not allow him to escape. He grabbed his face, forcing the warlock to look at him.

“Merlin, what is this,” he asked again, this time calmer. 

“Druid herbs,” he explained carelessly. “They amplify one’s magic”

The King stayed perplexed. Gaius had talked to him about his friend’s magic, saying that there wasn’t a stronger wizard in the world. If his friend was the strongest sorcerer to have ever lived, why did he need to amplify his magic, especially when they were having a quiet night in after a few drinks. What had caused him to consume the herbs during his shower? 

Arthur thought at the speed of light, wandering about his friend’s condition while trying to keep him in spot. “Why do you use it?” he ended up inquiring about the reasons behind such actions. 

‘For you Arthur,” the brunet answered.   
Those words stunned the King, completely unexpected. It made no sense to the blonde. Merlin could read the confusing on his face and it made his giggle. Everything made him giggled; he was so out of it. 

“I take it for you,” he repeated as he placed a finger upon the King’s nose. “I needed a way to stay alive for centuries, and those herbs were part of the solution. They made the potion that makes me live.”

“You used them for a potion”

“Yes”

“But today you smoke it”

“It’s the druid,” he whispered. Arthur had to frown his brows to keep along with what the warlock was telling. Little of his words were making sense.

“The druids gave them to me, and I tried them. I used it for the potion and the left over was used for… well for this,” he smiled wildly.

“And what is this”

“Seeing you again.” Suddenly there was no laughter, no hidden giggle, no false amusement in Merlin’s voice. “I use them to see when you were gone”

Arthur’s stomach clenched. _To see me_ , he thought. He was suddenly shaken with guilt. Merlin had gone out of his way, out of his mind, only to be with him when he reentered this world. He was obviously sacrificing his mind just so he wouldn’t be alone in the after afterlife, and that had brought him to use substances just to see his face. He was addicted, still using the herbs thousands of years later. 

Addicted, yes! That made so much sense. It explained why Merlin had been looking thinner, constantly cold and shaking. He was addicted and had been hiding it for all this time. How could Arthur have missed it? The brunet had hidden things from him before, and was still hiding the truth. He was lying about his consumption, and how his lack of consumption was the cause of all the physical problems. 

The King looked around the room, finding a bag of the stuff in the open nightstand drawer. He grabbed it, moving them towards the bathroom. The herbs were the problem and he would make it better. 

“Where are you going,” Merlin asked. 

“To get rid of this,” he growled as he shook the bag in his hand with all his anger

“No” he screamed, rushing towards the knight. “You can’t take them”

“Merlin, look at yourself”

“I did, I have been looking at myself for years. This is not the first high. I’m fine,” he explained as he reached for the bag in the blonde’s hand. 

“You’re lying,” he yelled. “Just more and more lies, _Mer_ lin.” The warlock’s eyes were fixated on the bag, only adding to the King’s irritation.

“Arthur I can explain.”

“I don’t want to hear your explanations,” he turned around and continued his path to the bathroom. He noticed the plant that was placed above the cabinet. The pattern on the growing leafs resembled the herbs in the bag. _Lots of humidity, it’s hidden in plain sight_ , he thought. Of course Merlin had his own plant. He reached out for it. The herbs were going to the trash and the warlock was going to be clean, either he wanted it or not. 

He did not expect the brunet to attack him with such force, slamming his body against his own. The force of the impact made him drop the bag. Merlin was pushing him aside, reaching for the herbs. Arthur grabbed him by the waste, turning his body as he pulled the brunet away. But the warlock was not following. He began to step back, slamming the King against the wall. In his shock of the impact, he let go on the thin waste in front of him. 

Arthur took only an instant to get back into fighting mode. He had to stop Merlin without hurting him too much, and when the man was in he did not dare be as hard as he would usually be, unsure of what push would be enough to seriously injure the brunet. He could probably injure himself all alone, his fight with Arthur was asking for something bad to happen. 

He grabbed the dandy wrist that was reaching for the bag, pulling Merlin’s arm behind his back. The warlock screamed in discomfort, but Arthur did not stop. He knew that fixing his friend’s problem was more important than handling him with care. He pulled the figure behind him, slamming the brunet against the wall. He held him in place with his forearm. Grabbing the bag, he opened the toilet with his feet. 

“Merlin this is horrible for you. Look at yourself. You’ve been shaking and unstable since I arrived here. You’re out of control.”

He pulled the plant apart and started to flush as the body beneath his arm was trembling. Now the bag was being opened. He heard some incomprehensible words being muttered next to him as the bag flew out of his grip. It levitated in the air, moving above his head and landed in the sorcerer’s hand.

Arthur shook his head, brushing off the gob smacked expression on his face. He went to pull the bag out of Merlin's hand, but was stopped by a sudden pressure against his chest. He saw his friend’s eyes shine gold as he felt a push in the center of his body, making him fly across the room and smash against the ground of the living room. Merlin had used magic against him, attacking it with the force of sorcery. His breath leaved him when his body hit the ground, shoulder digging first into the solid wooden floor. He let out a cry of pain, the back of his shoulder blade burned with the sting of bruised skin. He lied at Merlin's feet, folding himself under the ache in his right side. For a moment, just a brief moment, the warlock seemed worried, as if he was preoccupied with the knight's state, but it did not last. His priority being the herbs that he held dearly against his chest. Aiming for the wizard's knee, Arthur kicked violently. Merlin, flustered with pain, lost his balance and fell face first to the ground. It gave the time to Arthur to rush towards the now free bag that had been dropped on the floor and dunk it into the loo

He never believed he would have never seen the day were Merlin would turn against him. The one person he had trusted more than anything had betrayed him. 

“And you say you are fine” he breathed out, the frustration too strong to hide. He ripped the bag out of the sorcerer’s hands rapidly, throwing it away as fast as he could to avoid the wizard’s magic once more. Merlin cried as the toilet flushed, as the last of his drugs were destroyed.   
“You used magic against me,” he stated for no one. “What happened to the ‘I use it for you Arthur, only for you’,” he whispered in distraught.

“I do,” he replied instinctively, as he cried over the toilet seat that had stolen him from his precious salvation. 

“Yes, use it for me, to get what you want out of me,” he criticized. 

“No, Arthur! I use it to protect what I care for, to protect you”

“And protect herbs over me, from me” 

“You threw them out,” he cried. The King could not bring himself to respond, emotions taking the best of him. He could not stand here, look at the person he had trusted, he had loved, and had eventually betrayed him crumble to the ground as he had preferred the addiction to his own.

He walked out, shaking his head. He couldn’t be here; he couldn’t stand near the person who had so deeply broken his trust, the anger and the betrayal taking over his mind. He grabbed his sword that lay by the door as he stepped outside. 

“I hate you,” a broken voice screamed from the lonely room he had just left. He breathed deep, hesitating. The pain in his chest was driving him to close the door, slamming it loudly as he left the flat. 

Arthur walked along the street, finding his way to the fair. It was the only place he knew he could go in this strange world that surrounded him. As he entered the park, a few drunken bodies exited the tavern. Their smiles and laughter reminded him of the promise night that had been robbed from him only to be replaced with pain and heartbreak. Because yes, Arthur's heart was broken. His chest was heavy with a feeling of grief. He had lost his lover to the addiction, making the man so pitifully addicted that he had turned on him. He walked towards the battle field, yielding his sword. He spotted one of the training dummies standing lonely in the dark field. His weapon flew towards the dummy at full force. He fed his arms with the force of his angry hurt, screaming out as he vented his emotions. Acting out on his feelings was probably more hurtful than holding them in. This way the King was forced to deal with the surfacing emotions had his face twisted with tears. His breath was scattered.

With a last blow of anger, the dummy broke under the sword.   
Arthur fell to his knees at the same time the stuffed chest reached the ground. He grabbed his face as he tried to restrain the uncontrollable sobs that escaped him. 

"Arthur" a scared voice called to him. He didn't dare look up, wanting to stay alone in his mess. 

"Arthur" the figure called again. A hand found its way to the knight's shoulder, pulling him behind. Robert was looking at him filled with worry. The blonde tried his best to regain his composure, ashamed to have anyone see him in such a broken state.

"Oh my friend, come with me. Don't stay outside on such a cold night, especially as you are now" he exclaimed as he pulled the blonde up, holding him by his shoulders. Arthur was to emotionally exhaust to resist. He followed Robert into the castle. The King didn't even have the energy to comment on how horrible of an excuse for a castle the place was. The man brought him to a set of stairs that brought him to another level of the building. 

"My place is above the banquet hall. Please stay here as long as you want" he invited as they entered the room. 

Arthur sat on the sofa, feeling numb from the vast emotional outburst that had shaken his body earlier. Robert offered him some tea, something that the King accepted gladly and pulled a blanket out of the covers. He folded the sheets, placing them by Arthur's side. "I don't have a guestroom" he explained. "I'm afraid you will have to content yourself with the couch. "

The blonde did not respond. He didn't even move his head towards him. Robert bit his bottom lip, uncomfortable at the pain he could see on his guest's face. 

"The sofa unfold, he explains, trying to get words out of the broken man. still no reaction

He did not ask about what had plagued the blonde, to the delight of the King. "Thank you" he whispered, grateful for his help and his respect.

"There is no need to thank me" he explained. "Everyone needs someone to look over them"

"I lost my someone, at least I think" he blankly said, his eyes lost in the empty air in front of him. 

"So it's a heartbreak that plagues you this night" he concluded. "In that case let me get something stronger than tea to south your pain. I think there is some mead in the fridge" he offered, but the King did not accept it

"No, I need my mind to stay clear. I need to think. I do not want to lose my senses to mead, not tonight, he whimpered, the pain returning to his voice.

"Alright" Robert accepted, worried that he could not help the broken man in front of him. 

Arthur massaged his right shoulder, the pain was still fresh. Every movement he made stung down his back and arm, making his nerves ache. He didn't mind the pain. It was a reminder that his friend had betrayed him, a call to reality, a fresh souvenir that forced him to think about what had happen. 

He wanted to hate Merlin like he had hated magic, calling him names and scream sorcerer with a condescending tone. He wished he could hate the magic that had hurt him, blaming its source. That would have been easier than to face the truth that he was hurt a lot deeper. 

He denied it for so long, his love for the brunet, leaving those passionate feelings deep in the unconscious of his own mind. But in this life he had faced those feelings, accepting the hard truth that there was nothing in this world he cared more about than that man. He had tasted the joys, the pleasures, the world of happiness they could have had together, only to have it taken away by him. Merlin had never been his; he had belonged to the drugs, those god damn herbs that exposed the worst of him.

"If you need me, my room is at the end of the hall" Robert's words brought him out of his thoughts. 

Arthur replied with a nod, nothing more than a small shake. The host took one last look to the blonde before going to his room, thinking that he had done his best. 

***

That night Arthur did not sleep. He stayed in the dark, staring at the emptiness in front of him. His windpipe was still tight as he shake, once more allowing the pain of betrayal to take over his body. _Merlin_ he thought. _Merlin. Merlin. Merlin_ his mind repeated until his mind numbed him to the name, hoping to make it meaningless. But every time he thought it, it only made his heart hurt with the increasing meaning, the meaning of his lost love, of his broken heart, of the betrayal that was scaring its way through his body.  
***  
Robert woke up the next morning, hoping there was something he could do to ease the blonde’s pain. He could feel the depth of the man’s heartache by looking at his broken posture. His figure was screaming hurt. Exiting the bedroom on the tip of his toes, he looked to see if the blonde guest was sleeping, only to see that the sheets were untouched on the corner of the sofa where he had placed them the night before. On the kitchen table he found a note that read “Thank you for your hospitality” signed with a calligraphically set of initials reading AP.


	11. Merlin POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the shortness of this chapter, but with the holidays going on I didn't have time to spend more time on this part of the story than I did. But the next chapter will a long one, promise.  
> I got what I asked for on Christmas. I now own Merlin... well on DVD. Sadly the rights to the story are still not mine.

_Please Don’t Leave Me, P!nk_

Merlin woke up with a familiar taste in his mouth. He snapped his lips, trying to erase the disgusting taste that came with a morning after way too much herbs. He opened his eyes, sequencing them at the bright light hurting his retina. He was on the floor of the bathroom, hugging the towel he had cried in as he had fallen asleep the night before. He could hear his heartbeat in the veins of his head. His mind was clouded. Why had he slept by the toilet seat? He wasn’t sick. He didn’t feel sick. He hadn’t been sick. 

He remembered that he had tried to control the withdrawal, taking a simple puff of herbs to stop his body’s pain. But he hadn’t taken just one inhale. He had taken more, much more. He pulled his hand on his forehead. 

Arthur! His mind had clicked. He had fought with Arthur. _Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck_ he thought remembering just how badly he had screwed up. Tears flowed down his eyes as he saw the images of yesterday’s actions replay in his head. He had used magic against Arthur. The King had went through so much to accept him, to trust in the thing he had been raised to fear, only to be betrayed by his closest friend and lover. 

Merlin didn’t have time to cry. He panicked as he remembered that Arthur had left. The King who had no idea of how the modern world worked had stepped outside and spent the night away, hurt and betrayed. The warlock picked himself up, tripping as he got out of the room in tears. 

Where was he supposed to begin his look? He didn’t care he had to find the blonde. 

How could he have let himself be so stupid? Arthur was all he cared for, all he lived for, and now he had screwed that up. He had left and the warlock had no idea where to. He would have used his magic to trace him down if his powers hadn’t been out of whack. He had taken enough to screw up his senses, leaving them weak and unreliable. 

He didn’t find Arthur in the streets around his house. Worried, he started to think of the worst. The warlock had check the nearest hospital and called the morgue. He was that worried for his friend’s safety. 

The sky began to turn dark and Merlin was now in a full on panic. Still no news about where Arthur had been. He went back home, going to pick a torch and coat, ready to bring warmth to his friend if needed. 

As he entered the flat he found him. Arthur was standing by the window, looking at the outside. He wiped off the single tear of relief that poured down his cheek. The blonde was safe, and for now, that was all he needed. 

“Arthur” he exclaimed as he slowly walked closer. “Arthur I am sorry. I should have told you the truth. I never wanted to-”

“Shut up Merlin” he coldly replied, emotionless. 

Slowly, he turned his face towards brunet. Merlin’s heart sank as he saw the expression in Arthur’s eyes. Never had he seen so much hurt in the sea of blue depth, not even when his father had died nor when Guinevere had betrayed his trust,. The look was even worse than the one Merlin had received when Arthur first found out about his magic. Those eyes, he could see in those eyes all the pain, making him regret his mistaken actions even more. It made him want to fall dead on the spot and end not only his pain, but the knight’s also. 

But he couldn’t coward out. Arthur was all he had, all he ever wanted. He was his destiny, and nothing would make him give up on fixing the person for who he was destined to serve. Taking another step, he opened his mouth, trying to explain.

“ _Mer_ lin, don’t” the King cut him off. “I don’t want to hear it. Just shut up”

Arthur turned his back to the warlock, moving towards the kitchen. The warlock was left behind, alone. He called the King’s name, his voice breaking as he pronounced it, hoping that he would return. But the blonde never came back. He stayed in the kitchen, placing himself as far as he could from the other man. “Please” the warlock begged. “Say something”

“Get out” an annoyed voice shouted from behind the wall. 

“Please” he begged

“Get out” the King shouted. Tears silently filled the sorcerer’s blue eyes

“Arthur” he whispered, broken. The blonde rushed back into the living room. “If you won’t get out I will” he screamed as he walked into the bedroom, locking the slammed door behind him. Merlin pulled on the knob, hoping that maybe, for some reason, he could get in. Crumbling to the floor, he cried at the foot of the door, mumbling please to the blonde over and over again. He received nothing more than cold silence in return.

***

Arthur had accepted the teaching job at the fair, leaving almost every morning for his day of work. He spent all of his time out in the field where he practiced his fighting skills. The warlock had tried to follow him at first, but had quickly been told he couldn’t come in that section of the park during regular hours. Only the workers were allowed to get that close to the historical monument and that tourist would have to wait until the fair’s public hours during the weekend to join. 

So Merlin spent most of his time alone in the flat he used to call home, waiting for the moment Arthur would come back, terrified that he wouldn’t. The first few nights he almost didn’t. On his first day of work Monday morning, Arthur had been out all day and had spent most of the night training by his own in the field, only returning after the sun was long gone and the starts began to twinkle in the cold night sky. 

“I was about to go look for you” Merlin explained when he bumped heavily into Arthur’s walking body at the entrance of the flat. He had carelessly tied his shoes and half of his coat was on his back as he struggled to get his arm into the other sleeve. “I was worried for you” he explained. The King didn’t answer. He barely acknowledged that someone was speaking to him, rushing into the bathroom to take a shower. Merlin’s existence was denied. As the water fell out of the shower tap, tears slowly rolled down the warlock’s face. He sat on the couch, pulling his knees into his chest. With his face crushed into his legs, the brunet broke. 

Everything he had done had been for Arthur. Every day of his life since his mother had made him move unto the citadel was dedicated to working with him, for him, in service of him. One detail, one flaw, one night had ruined it all. 

The worst was that Merlin had done all he could to avoid it. He had been working, studying, searching for something to avoid this, only to have it blown away in one night. It wasn’t the high that had frustrated Arthur, it was what the sorcerer had done when he was under the influence, and that couldn’t be blamed on the drugs. He held the responsibility and he honestly did not know how to fix things, if it was even capable of being fixed. 

But he would try; he would try to be forgiven at least. He could never have the King like he had him before. He would never feel the love that he had felt only a few nights ago. Arthur hated him now. And that thought, that truth, made him sob even louder.


	12. Arthur POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the hardest editing session I have ever experienced. Over 5 thousand words!!!! I hope you will like it, because I honestly do.   
> You guys on AO3 have been so many to be reading my story it makes me incredibly happy. Today when I saw that over a thousand people have viewed my story I screamed for a good 5 minutes straight. I just want to take this moment to tell you all how grateful I am that you enjoy this as much as I. It means the world to me!  
> Do I really need to say it once more?  
> Now enough chatter, let's get on with the story!!

_Say Something by A Great Big World_

Arthur accepted Robert’s offer, allowing him to spend as much time away as he needed. The modern knight had offered him to stay with him for a few days, wanting him to have some place to ride things out in the next few days. But Arthur refused. He did not want to be dependent on another person. And leaving would change his relation his Merlin beyond repair. The King was still unsure if it was worth repairing, but until he did, he would not leave the flat, even if he had to live with the awkward silence

Merlin was trying his best to fix things, he had to admit it. Every day he came to him, trying to explain, to justify, to talk things threw. He did anything to get them to at least try to communicate. But Arthur told him off every time, his heart aching with every turndown. His persistence was confusing the blonde even more. He wanted to hate, he wanted to storm out and leave, never looking back. He wanted not to care. 

But Arthur cared. He was hurt, confused, betrayed, and in love with the man. The King still loved the man, after all this he loved Merlin more than he should when he had betrayed him, and that was why everything was so god damn complicated. 

The truth was he really wanted to talk things threw and speak to Merlin. He wanted to fix things and go back to the way they were, he just did know how to start. Arthur was never comfortable confronting his feelings and openly admit what he was going through. So instead the knight avoided his feelings, pushing the needed conversation aside. That was what he had always done. He buried his pain in training and swordfights, spending as much time as he could at the fair.

Robert and Julian were understanding, taking their time with the King’s “job training”. They had to follow the protocol of hiring someone and show the blonde the moves and techniques the modern knights promoted and thought in their school. They called it Arthur’s training for the union, but it truly was the other way around. The King was the one pointing out their flaws and showing them how to increase their skills. Arthur was giving himself to the work completely, anything to get his mind off the troubles that were waiting for him at home. 

***  
“Arthur please say something,” the sorcerer begged. “Anything. Yell at me, insult me, call me an idiot. Just say something.”

The blonde did not respond, he didn’t even shake his head. With his eyes closed, he hoped that the brunet would leave. Arthur wanted to insult, to yell, to fight. He also wanted to turn towards the man, embrace him in his arms. Even after all this, he still loved and cared for Merlin and seeing him in this pain was heart breaking. The conflicting emotions were pulling him apart and he did not know how much more he could take. “Just leave” he whispered lowly, barely audible. 

“I’m going to take a shower,” he said, hoping for a response that never came.

Arthur listened to the sound that his footsteps made as he turned around, to the door clothes. He listened to the sounds that were around and worried for the sounds that were not, the ones that were supposed to come, but never did. He waited for the water that fell from the tap, worrying as it failed to start. Instead it was replaced with violent coughs. Arthur turned around, looking at the cracked open door with worry that filled his chest. The cough did not stop. Instead they were followed by a loud crumbling noise and crash. The figure behind the door hurled and complained painfully. 

“Merlin,” the King screamed as he rushed into the room. The sight in front of him made his heart skip a beat. The warlock had fallen to the ground and was barely conscious. He was surrounded by a pool of vomit and was shacking violently. 

“Merlin,” he shouted again, hoping to get a response from the brunet, but hearing nothing but a whimper escape his trembling lips. “Oh Merlin,” he exhaled as he pulled his head up. 

The brunet was burning hot and covered in sweat. He pulled the sorcerer’s body over his shoulder, carrying him out of the bathroom and laid him on the bed. Shivers took over small body as he slowly returned to consciousness. 

Arthur pulled the covers over his friend’s body, desperate to give him warmth. He passed his finger through the sweat damped hair, clearing his face from the brown locks that were stuck to his forehead. “It’s alright,” he whispered, more for himself than for his friend. “It’s alright.”

“Now you know… why I… I …never stopped taking,” Merlin barely managed to say, but the blonde stopped him. 

“Hush, not now,” he explained, tucking the gangly figure in the bed. “We don’t need to talk right now.”

“It’s the first time you talked to me in days,” he protested. “I’m not letting this chance go by,” he tried to sit up, only to be restrained by Arthur. 

“Stay still,” the King ordered. He did his best to hide the tremble in his voice, but the truth was, he was terrified. Seeing Merlin on the ground, sick and unconscious, it made him panic. Fear had taken control of him because, despite the fact that he was hurt, the sorcerer was his only friend and he couldn’t bear to lose him. He had understood that much now. He didn’t care about the attack or the betrayal, all he truly cared about was him.

“Arthur” the wizard complained, trying to break free of his friend’s hold and sit straight. 

“Shut up Merlin”

“Arthur”

“No!”

“Arthur,” he pronounced with a broken voice. But the warlock had already pushed too hard, coughing violently. The blonde pulled him on his side, preventing him from chocking. Merlin pulled a hand to his mouth as he coughed. The King pulled on it, looking at the inside. The brunet’s fingers were slimy with mucus. He looked at the sorcerer, scared. With the bottom of his shirt, he whipped the fingers clean.

“Arthur I am not giving up,” Merlin insisted reaching for the knight’s face with weak shaking hands. 

“I know Merlin, I know,” he pulled on the wizard’s digit, holding it against his face as he rubbed him thumb against the hand he pressed to his cheek. “And we will. I promise we will, but right now we need to concentrate on keeping you alright,” he explained. 

“I’m so sorry,” the brunet cried, his eyes heavy with sickness.

“I’ll be right back” he pulled away. The King went into the kitchen, turning his head around and taking one last look at the sick body lying in between the sheets. 

He found a cloth in the kitchen drawer and filled a bottle of water. He breathed in deeply, taking a moment to relax. He had been confused for a week, unsure of what to do, and only a second to conclude that everything was worth risking, as long as he had Merlin. The King was still hurt, and he knew they had much to talk about. But now he understood that whatever happened, it would happen with the brunet by his side, even if that meant it could end with more pain and torment. 

He walked into the room to find the warlock smiling at him; with the expression that was so unique to him it warmed his heart. Arthur knew he was doing the right thing. Merlin’s smile did not last though, as it was rapidly replaced by the expression of pain that had haunted his features in the bathroom. The King urgently returned by the man’s side, kneeling down as he opened the bottle of water. 

“Drink this,” he ordered as he placed the bottle to the man’s lips. With a hand behind his neck, Arthur pulled the wizard up, helping his swallow the sip of liquid. Just that action had seemed to pull the warlock of all his energy, making him weak and exhausted. 

The knight used the rest of the water to wet the cloth. He cleaned the brunet’s face, whipping off the cold sweated cheeks. He placed the material on his head, trying to bring the sorcerer’s temperature down. 

Truth was that Arthur had no clue how to take care of someone. He had never spent enough time with Gaius to know what to do. The King was improvising, hoping that what he did would work. Merlin was pale, which was a lot to say about him. He was whiter than he had ever seen him before, with an unhealthy glow that reflected on his face. If Arthur had thought the man was thinner on the night he first came back, he would be afraid to acknowledge the man’s present weight, nothing more than skin and bones. And God those dark circles under his eyelids were terrorizing, almost as big as his eyes themselves, and darker than the hair on the guy’s head. Merlin looked like hell. 

The wizard’s eyelids fluttered under the knight’s care, taking a little longer to open every time they blinked. He was falling asleep. The blonde cuddled his face, patiently waiting for him to enter slumber. The sorcerer hadn’t been this tenderly caressed by the King in a long time and the comfort he received brought him closer to the land of dreams. It was so tempting to give in and sleep a little more. 

Arthur smiled as Merlin’s eyes failed to open. Rest would do him good, at least he hoped. And the brunet’s rest would give him the time to think. But the warlock jumped up, inhaling violently as he forced his eyes open as wide as possible. 

“Hey. Hey!” The King whispered as he tried to lay Merlin down again, but the man resisted, still half panicking. 

“No, I can’t sleep. I don’t want to sleep. I can’t. No. ” He repeated frantically. 

“Merlin, calm down”

“I… I don’t want to have the nightmares,” he protested. 

“Nightmares?” the blonde inquired.

“The high shows you what you want most, and the withdrawal haunts you with what you cannot stand to see,” he explained rapidly. “I can’t take the nightmares anymore,” he stared deeply into the eyes of the blonde, tearing up at the thought of what the night would bring upon him. 

“I keep seeing you die, being told that it’s my entire fault. They crush me with guilt, over and over again. I failed my destiny and I and now faith is not letting me forget it”

“But I’m not dead,” the King reminded him.

“You use to be, and for a very long time you were. And that death happened because of me”

“That’s nonsense _Mer_ lin, don’t be an idiot”

“I had the power to prevent it and I didn’t. Kilgharrah had warned me and I didn’t listen”

“Merlin, you are not responsible for Mordred’s betrayal, stop sayings craziness.”

“I protected Mordred when he was a kid, knowing he was going to grow to be your undoing. Uther had sent you to find a druid boy to have him execute and I helped him hide. I knew where Morgana was keeping him and I kept it a secret. If I would have listened to the dragon and told you about his hiding place, Uther would have executed him and he would never had grown to be the knight that betrayed you in Camlann”

“You saved a child’s life,” Arthur protested. “You did what was right. It’s not your fault. You saved a kid who ruined himself as an adult by his own. You have nothing to do with his decisions.”

“That’s not all. Gaius and I knew Morgana she had magic. Gaius told me not to tell her the truth. It would only make her more afraid and vulnerable to know. But I couldn’t stand by and watch. I knew what she was going through and told her where to get the answers to her questions. I showed her the way to the druid camp who told her about her magic. I helped her turn against Camelot”

“You did not cause Morgana to become evil. With powers like hers, it was inevitable that she would discover them. You discovered yours the hard way and you never used them for evil,” the King argued. There was a slight pause in the air as Merlin absorbed his friend’s words.

“You don’t think I’m evil,” his voice had changed in tone. He was now talking with a lower octave. “Even after what I did to you”

Arthur took a moment to answer, not because of conflicted emotions, but because he needed to use the right words. He never could express his feelings; it had been his flaw all his life. But now he had to find a way, he had to for Merlin. He had to because he had procrastinated the talk, postponing it for weeks. 

“I know you would never have done what you did if you were yourself. I trust you more than I trust anyone in this world. You weren’t you and I understand that. But it doesn’t excuse your actions, and I am still hurt”

Merlin nodded sadly. He was truly happy that Arthur didn’t hate him, but wished that he could actually do something to ease the King’s pain. 

“I don’t want to be that person. I never wanted to do this Arthur. You have to believe me,” he justified with tears in his eyes. 

“I know you got into those herbs because you wanted to be stronger, that you needed to get power to fight death.”

“Strong magic comes with a price,” he explained. “It’s a sorcerer’s duty to know that price. I knew that for you, it was more than worth paying it. I accepted the consequences years ago, taking it gladly if it meant I would see you again. To me the pain was nothing compared to the prize, as long as I’d be by your side once more.”

The warlock began to cough wildly once more. He had talked to long and was now paying the price. He coughed until his chest hurt, until he could feel the sting in his throat and began to spit some liquid back up.

“Enough talk,” Arthur declared. “You need to rest.” He pulled up the blanket, tucking it by his shoulders. 

“No, I don’t want to,” he protested weakly.

“It’s alright Merlin. I’ll be right by your side and if you do have a nightmare, I will pull you out of it before it hurts you,” he promised. 

The warlock nodded, trusting the man to save him from the plague of pain and heartbreak that tortured him nightly. 

Arthur crawled into the bed, and pulled Merlin closer to him, not for himself, but for the brunet. He played with his partner’s hair, slowly rubbing his fingers across the locks of brown strains. When he felt the breath beneath him change and the tension leave the muscles in his arms, Arthur slowly got out of the sheets. 

Not all was forgiven. The events of that still lingered in his mind. They still needed to talk, to fix things. In all honesty, the man hadn’t really talked deeply since they night Arthur had died. He wasn’t comfortable with the idea of such intimacy but he knew he had to, and he didn’t mind as long as he was doing it with Merlin. 

But those were problems for another day. For the moment what preoccupied Arthur was that Merlin got back on his feet. He had met some people in his time in the other world that had been struggling with such substances that had been the death of them. He had a vague idea of how hard it had been for them to stop, if they had. Lots of people he had talked to never truly did. And now to see Merlin in such a state, such painful withdrawal, he got why he was being so secretive before. 

***

Merlin woke up a few hours later, not because of a nightmare, but because of sickness. He had woken up by the desire to run to the bathroom, only to on his way. Arthur did not have the time to notice what was going on, the brunet had already reached the loo. But the sight he saw in that room tied his stomach in a not. The warlock was throwing up violently, his body shaking with such force it was almost convulsions. The blonde patiently waited for the wave of sickness to pass and helped his friend return to the bedroom, hoping that there at lease, with the comfort of blankets and warm sheets, it would eventually get better. He tucked in the man once more and left in the kitchen to get a bucket, in case this happened again.

“Bloody hell,” he swore running his hands through his hair in frustration. He had no clue how to save Merlin. He needed a physician. It was his only chance to cure himself. And the only physician Arthur knew was the one lying in bed, in desperate need for medical attention. 

“Does this happen often when you stop,” he asked, hoping to get some information about how to help the brunet.

“Every time,” he nodded. “But then I am usually alone. I’m glad you are here Arthur”

“You would do the same for me. Actually you did. Many times” he replied

“I am really sorry for all the lies. I promised, if I ever get out of this, there will be no more. I’ll tell you so many things you’ll be sick of hearing my voice”

“When” the King corrected. “When you get out of this, I will get even sicker of your nonsense chatter.”

“Arthur, we need to be realistic,” he coughed violently. “I’ve never managed to stop the herbs. And I honestly look like hell. We need to keep in mind that-”

“No!” he interrupted. “You are not allowed to talk like that” he ordered, forbidding their conversation. 

“But”

“No” he repeated looking into the eyes of the sickened man. Blue pupils met bluer ones as they exchanged a look of seriousness. Arthur expressed with his eyes all the things he couldn’t say, showing his partner just how worried and tender he was feeling in this moment. 

“Alright,” Merlin whispered lowly, accepting the feelings of his King. “Why do we always have to wait until you’re dying or I’m dying-“

“You’re not dying”

“Okay, or until I’m not dying but almost before we can talk seriously?”

“Because you are a stupid buffoon that is a complete idiot on most normal days” 

“And you a supercilious prat that doesn’t understand how big of a foolish arrogant arse he is on the other days”

“Well, you are certainly feeling better if you can use those kinds of words,” he smiled, enjoying the brief moment of laughter they had. It had been too long since they had been themselves with one another. 

Arthur held Merlin just a little tighter as they both tried to sleep again. In all honesty was he was worried out of his mind. There were some truths to what the warlock had told him. Even if he didn't want to admit it, the King feared. He did not let it show though. Merlin’s confidence had started to tremor. The sorcerer was talking seriously, accepting the dark possibilities ahead of them. If Arthur left his fears and uncertainties show, it would undermine all the work he tried to put into the brunet. No, the blonde wasn’t going to allow that. He would be strong, as he mostly was, confronting this situation head on. 

***

In the following few ways, they continued to take care of one another. Arthur was serving Merlin at the best he could, something that was absurd for the brunet. To have someone look over you was a pleasant experience, well, as pleasant as his state allowed him to. Arthur was being incredibly patient, something that was rare for the blonde. 

Merlin’s emotional state changed drastically. As their conversations returned, the brunet was mostly happy again. He smiled and laughed, his cheeks often touched by the colors of happiness.

But those cheeks were still stained with the reds of feverish sweats contrasted with pale white skin. His mind might have been a better place, but his body was still suffering, making the blonde’s mind a lot more conflicted. He was holding the weights of maybes and what ifs. 

***

Merlin was sitting in the living room, insisting he could lie on the sofa for a while. He was getting annoyed at the constant confinement in the bedroom. Arthur had given in, helping the brunet move across the flat. The King was in the kitchen making some tea as they talked. They did that a lot lately, which was good for them. Mostly small talk, they were discussing things that happened in Camelot and things that were to come. They hypothesized about why Arthur had come back, both of them unsure of the threats to come. 

“Maybe there is no reason for my return. Our faiths might have changed,” he guessed.

“If there is one thing I have learnt is that you can’t escape destiny. I’ve seen it unfold no matter the desperate attempts I made to change it. If faith could be escaped then trust me Arthur, you wouldn’t have died in Camlann,” the wizard explained.

“Alright,” he accepted. “Then I have no clue what is to be done.”

“Me neither.”

“You’re supposed to be the wise one,” he joked as his phone rang. “Why is the stupid magic box making noise? You can’t be calling me, you’re here”

Merlin laughed, which ended up resembling a series of timely matching coughs coming out of a smiling mouth. “Someone else is ringing you” he explained. “It’s not exclusive to me. Anyone with your number can contact you”

“Then what do I do”

“Pick up” 

“Hello,” he asked as he pressed the green phone he was thought to understand as the answer button. 

“Arthur thank goodness I got to you. It’s Robert,” the voice in the machine exclaimed. 

“Robert, hello,” the King repeated, informing Merlin of who was reaching him. 

“We haven’t seen you come to the training in the past few days. Is everything alright”

“Yes. I’m sorry. There has been something going on that prevented me from coming down to the fair,” he excused

“You are worrying me now. After the night you came over I’ve been wondering about you. And now you have stopped showing up to work”

“It’s complicated”

“Well the other knights really want an explanation because they are mad. Julian wanted to fire you. You owe me one because I’m holding them back”

“I’m sorry Robert but I can’t come back just yet”

“Arthur you can’t do this to me. Where are you right now! I’m coming over to knock some sense into you”

“Robert”

“No, you can’t Robert me! I wanted to do this the soft way, but you are not letting any choices. We offered you this job because we believed in you, and you have let us down. Now I am trying to give you another chance and you are throwing it by the window”

“What is it?” Merlin asked as he could see the upset look on the blonde’s face. 

“It’s Robert. He wants to know why I haven’t shown up for training. He wants to talk face to face.”

“Go,” the sorcerer whispered. “See him”

“But Mer-“

“Take a moment to fix things with Robert. I’ll sleep”

Arthur shook his head, refusing to let Merlin alone. He was about to turn back towards the phone and decline everything he had built with the modern knights. His reasons for taking such positions were now useless. But the warlock turned on him before he had a chance. With eyes that turned gold he whispered a spell that made the cellphone appear in his hands. 

“Yes Robert, this is Emrys” he told the man. “Arthur will be pleased to see you and justify what has been going on as long as you meet in his flat. It’s down the road, 223B. Yes by the lake’s shore. Alright Goodbye”.

“ _Mer_ lin” the King angrily called. “Using magic against me again?”

“No Arthur, I didn’t attack you. I used magic to help you keep your job. You wanted me to always be me; well this is me saving your royal arse from your arrogance”

“Those ‘knights’ are bad. You can actually fight with more strength than those men. Working with them is not training. It’s time killing”

“Then kill time with horribly bad knights, hitting each other’s brains out in a way I never understood why was considered glorious while I lie in bed and do nothing at all like the lousy bad servant I am,” he justified sarcastically.

Arthur didn’t dare argue with Merlin, not because he was giving into his friend’s argument, but because he was afraid that if they did argue, the warlock would become problematically sick. Indeed, Merlin’s breath was becoming short and his fever was visible with the redness in his cheeks and forehead.

So Arthur helped Merlin into the bedroom and waited for Robert to arrive. With impatient knocks on the door, the modern knight arrived in sound and fury. 

“What the hell Arthur,” he questions as he crossed the threshold. “Why haven’t you been showing up to your position? You better have a good explanation”

Arthur couldn’t take anymore. He let go of the muscles that were holding him up, thankful that he could fall onto someone for a moment. 

“It’s my boyfriend” he let out in one breath. It felt wiered to use that word to describe Merlin. Boyfriend. It felt weird, but it didn’t feel wrong, not at all. 

Robert’s body shifted as he brought them to the kitchen table. “You do not seem well my friend,” he asked calmly now. 

“The one who isn’t well is Mer-Emrys,” he caught himself. Merlin might have been use to lying but Arthur had always been true to his heart, and holding back was harder than he expected. “When I came over to your place we had a fight. He has been… struggling with substance abuse and now he is in withdrawal, suffering from the sickness that accompanies it”

“Oh” the man replied the position in his body shifting.

“He is not very well. I am afraid Robert. He is only getting worse and I don’t know what to do to make him any better”

“Is he here?” the man asked in a neutral voice. 

Arthur started to hesitate about his confessions. There was so much he could explain about Merlin to relative strangers. Magic was hated in Camelot but at least it was acknowledged. This world thought sorcerers were things of folly and mocked the people who claimed to have magic. There was something in the way Robert’s position had shifted and his attention with his questions. Arthur felt suspicious. 

“No, he left before you arrived. He decided the spend the night at his mother’s place,” he tried to lie but the coughing sounds coming from the bedroom behind them. 

“He has nightmares doesn’t he? Recurrent visions of things he regrets most. And when he is awake he has the shakes and cold sweats.”

“I’d like you to leave now,” the King replied with a deep menacing voice, his hand reaching for his waste, instinctively looking for a sword. But he did not carry one all the time in this world. He took a few looks around the kitchen, looking for another potential weapon, his fighter’s instincts kicking in. 

“Don’t be like that Arthur,” Robert warned. “Things are not the way they seem. I am not an enemy.”

The King did not reply, waiting for an explanation or even better, a moment to strike. 

“I wished I could have kept it from you for a little longer. Things weren’t supposed to happen like this. But I guess no one truly understand the details of their destiny,” he added. 

“This is your last warning, get out,” his voice was now aggressive.

“You don’t want to do that. I know what is troubling your friend Merlin and I know how to help him. I come in kindness, not for confrontation.”

“You called him Merli,.” the blonde noticed. 

“Everyone with magic know who he is”

“ _You_ have magic”

“Arthur Pendragon, your destiny, and therefore Merlin’s destiny, have been over watched for thousands of years. And everyone needs a little push to kick start their faith. Your faith was to be the greatest King Camelot has ever known, to unite Albion and create a kingdom that would become legend. You ought to be the once and future King that rose again when Albion needs it most. Merlin was destined to serve and protect you through that journey, to be the strongest warlock in the world in order to serve the strongest King in the world and ultimately serve and protect his land. My destiny is to be the one to give you the clues and hints you need to fulfill the task you both have ahead of you. I am to do what Kilgharrah did thousands of years ago, answer the questions you may encounter. Now I may know how to help your friend so please Arthur, can I see him?”

Another cough resonated in the silent atmosphere, weighing on the King’s shoulders. Merlin needed a physician, or whatever the equivalent was in this world. He didn’t know how to help him anymore. Maybe letting Robert see Merlin would be helpful. It certainly couldn’t be worst. But still he didn’t feel comfortable with the idea. He wasn’t sure he should trust the modern knight. He knew more about them, unsure of how he got that information. 

Arthur pondered on the thought. If Robert tried anything, he would get rid of him in an instant. He knew how the bald man fought. He could take him without any problem. 

“Alright” he finally nodded, accepting out of desperation. He hoped he would not live to regret this decision.


	13. Merlin POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone. We've reached the end of yet another year and I plan to celebrate. That is why I will not be posting my chapter in two days like I usually do. I'm planning on being to hung over to do that. Instead the next chapter will come out on January 2nd.   
> But fear not, I will be posting the story I've told you about. I managed to finish my merthur oneshot to give to you as a new years present. So if you want to read something new and different but still from me, then I would suggest you pay a visit to my profile tomorrow.   
> I will see you all in the new years.   
> And as always, I do not own Merlin

_There is actually no song for this chapter_

Merlin was lying in his bed, pretending to sleep. He knew Arthur wouldn't leave unless he thought he was asleep, but Merlin was nowhere near tired. The King had treated him as his priority and even if it made the warlock so happy to hold such importance, he couldn't take it anymore. Being so dependent, so needy of the King was not the way his destiny had planned for him. He was supposed to take care or Arthur, not the other way around. The warlock was anticipating the moment he would be feeling better, wanting things to return to normal. 

He turned around in the sheets, big mistake. He started to cough, breathless. _Bollocks_ , he thought. His body was working against him, breaking at any little move. He hoped that his noise wasn't causing Arthur any problems. He knew that Robert had arrived when he had heard the voices come from the kitchen. Taking a deep breath, he held back the desire of coughing out a lung.

Arthur had been coaxing him so much that the warlock barely had the time to look for a solution. He knew that this problem had arisen with magic. It would only be fixed with magic. But the King believed that, with a right amount of rest, he would heal and feel better eventually. Only then, when he had a little more stamina could they go on looking for an answer. And Merlin didn't have the strength to argue against. _Tomorrow we'll look_ , they kept thinking, _tomorrow._

Merlin started to cough once more. His body being so weak was starting to frustrate him. He could have screamed in built up anger if it wasn’t for the fact that Arthur was right out of the door. The blonde had worked so hard to make him comfortable, and the warlock was so grateful for it. But he could see that even the blonde was getting discouraged and he did not want to put more stress on his shoulders. 

“Get out,” he heard Arthur’s angry voice growl outside. Things had not turned out well then. Merlin sighed. He noticed that the door was still open. No matter how much he enjoyed eave dropping onto their conversation, getting glimpse and impressions of what they were discussing, the sorcerer thought that it would be best to have it shut. At least this way he wouldn’t bother the King with his noisy repertory system that wasn’t obeying his will. 

But Merlin didn’t have the energy to close it. He barely had any energy at all. Simply moving in the sheet to be facing the room’s exit seemed to be too much to ask from him. And he didn’t have enough motivation to put himself through such pain anyway. He took another glance towards the door. How pathetic was it really. He was stronger than any man he knew, and at this moment he was weaker than ever. Forcing himself to do something this simple, he refused to crumble under the weakness, using a spell to do what his body could not. He heard a voice walk close to the room as he whispered a spell. “I think he’s asleep,” Arthur said behind the door that was now closing. 

“Oh he’s awake,” the other voice answered a few moments after the door slammed shut. Merlin pulled himself up, trying to sit as he confusingly observed the men walking through the door. 

“Is everything alright,” he asked addressed them both, but was truly only cared about the blonde’s answer. He looked at the expression on the King face, trying to decrypt its complex figure of emotions to find some hints about what was happening. The blonde replied to the questioning look with a set of serious eyes. A small nod of his head seemed to tell ‘it’s alright’. Merlin sighed, allowing some of his attention to go towards Robert. 

“Yes Merlin. I just swung by to say hi. How are you doing?” he introduced as he sat at the foot of the bed. The brunet briefly looked at Arthur before fixing Robert once more. He was sure that he presented himself to the modern knight with his alias Emrys. And a quick look at Arthur revealed to him that the King hadn’t been the one to bring up the truth. 

“Oh don’t look so surprise. Of course I know your name,” the bald man expressed. 

“How?” he whispered in confusion. Robert decided to show him. He lifted up his eyes, showing the golden glow rush through his pupils. 

“Magic,” the warlock concluded. 

“You’re name is famous among the gifted ones. There is not a wizard in this world who hasn’t heard of your powers Emrys, Merlin, whatever you prefer to be called nowadays,” the man explained. 

“Merlin is fine,” the sorcerer accepted. 

“You look worse than I expected”  
“Well thank you,” he said sarcastically. “Why are you even here?”

“Because it is my destiny” he replied dead serious. 

Merlin stayed cold to that. Had he reached the point where he was so sick faith had replaced him? The position of annoying friend with magical powers was already taken in Arthur’s life! There was no room for Robert to take on such role. 

“I could talk on for a great deal about destiny, but to say those words to you don’t mean as much. It is my faith to hold some answers for you and Arthur, like the dragon gave you some in Camelot.”

“So it’s wasn’t me who convinced you and your knights to open the fair next to the lake,” he diverted, not sure how to interact with the man.

“It made you happy to believe so I let you. Truth was I did. I wanted to be close in case you needed any intervention from me. I tried to play dumb, waiting for destiny to take its own course but it seems that it won’t be that easy. I’m afraid I had to force faith’s hand for the events unfolded faster than I expected them to”

“You’re talking in riddles,” Arthur said from behind the modern knight. 

“Faith does that a lot,” Merlin mocked. “I’ve barely ever got a straight answer. That would be too easy”

“What do you know exactly,” the King demanded impatient

“I know the reason for Arthur’s return,” he replied in a smile. The two men exchanged a look before returning their attention to the modern knight who claimed to know the answer to their most often asked question. 

“Keep on,” the King ordered, impatient to hear as much as a hint of fresh news

“I can’t just tell you,” he replied. Merlin rolled his eyes, of course the events of destiny were to be hidden from him again. 

“Say,” the King insisted. 

“We deserve to know that much,” the warlock added. 

“We need to prepare.”

“We need to know.”

“Say,” the King ordered. Both Merlin and Arthur had the persistence to demand Robert to give them the information, not giving up on. 

“I wish I could, but there is so much I am allowed to say without changing the events to come for the worse. It’s your futures and I can’t interfere with that, ruin everything you boys have lived for”

“You must,” Merlin continued in frustration. Information was always kept from him when he needed it most. Having the answers so close but still out of reach was infuriating. He tried to sit up completely, placing himself on the same level as the knight sitting on the bed. He pushed his weight up only to see his arms were shaking. The trembles were enough to stop him from efficiently using his muscles. His vision momentarily blurred when he moved, dizzier than he could accounts for. A simple act such as that was making him breathless, interrupted by slight coughs. He growled in frustration. His stupid body couldn’t keep up with his mind, his life. He grabbed a fistful of his own hair, breathing in deeply trying to regain his composure. 

“Right now what I must is talk with you two about this,” he pointed out the mess in which Merlin was lying. “Using the druid herbs wasn’t the best idea, but you suffered the price already. You shouldn’t have to pay for your mistake any longer.”

“You know about the herbs,” the sorcerer stressed out

“I have tried them. Desperation makes a man do crazy things.” 

The wizard rolled his eyes. That was the understatement of a lifetime. He had been more than desperate for thousands of years, broken and damaged by the absence of the person he cared for the most with a love that was deeper than time or faith, or anything that could come between them. They were two sides of the same coin, and without Arthur, Merlin was nothing more than scraps of metal, a currency that was out of value, waiting in pain for the moment where he would be reunited with the part that made him whole again. Yes, desperation certainly had made him do things that were crazy. 

“You’ve been on them,” Arthur repeated, moving in closer to Robert.

“Yes, a long time ago,” he admitted.

“And you’re fine today,” the King stressed out

“I’m not dying” the warlock verbalized the conclusions made by his friend. Neither had spoken about it openly but it had been a fear in both of their minds. With a sigh of relief, Merlin smiled at the news that gave him the hope he was looking for during the past few days. 

“Not yet at least,” Robert corrected. “I wasn’t feeling as bad as you mate, maybe because I didn’t take for as long as you, but I sure was feeling like shit.”

“What did you do,” Merlin inquired, impatient for a solution.

“I had a friend who helped me, Howard. He found me in my… bad state,” he recalled, pausing at the pain of the memory. “He had this shot of… I wouldn’t call it water because it had so much power, but that’s what it was. It had powerful magic that soothed my pain. Howard warned me of one thing though, the water will only work if one is worthy of it. I don't know what it means, but it worked for me. I guess my faith was too important for me to taken away before my time" the modern knight added. 

"Merlin is more than worthy of salvation. That will not be a problem," Arthur justified, brushing off the warning as if it were just a passing breeze.

Merlin felt a little less confident. During the thousand years he had spent alone, he had done things he was not proud of. His condition presently was due to his sinful actions. He had given in to a darker side of him to access and abuse of the herbs. He had lusted with strangers, lost in his illusions, using their bodies to sooth his own pain. He wasn't so sure he was 'worthy' of anything. 

“Great,” Arthur laughed in relief. “Could you ring him for us?”

“I can’t.”

“Don’t choke on us again. We need this. Tell us how to reach your friend, please,” Arthur protested.

“He’s dead” the modern knight explained. Silence entered the room. The hope that was given to the men only moments ago was now ripped away from them, denying the promised salvation they craved. 

“I’m sorry lads,” Robert added. “I don’t know how to get what you need. I just know it exists.”

“It’s alright,” Merlin replied. “If your friend found it, we also can.” He tried to cheer himself up with this idea, but truly the warlock felt devastated. He had gotten a glimpse of the end of this painful situation, a taste of what could be, only to have it destroyed. The deception hurt so much, but by now Merlin was an expert in deception, with all the years he thought Arthur was coming back only to see the lake’s water stay calm, he knew how to deal with those feelings. Picking himself up, and therefore picking the whole room up, he tried to stay positive, choosing to believe in the promise, even if it was a lie. “The good news is that it exists. We can find it for ourselves.” 

“You’re right” Robert agreed. “I best be going, but if I have any memories that could help you, I will reach out to you.” The man left the room, showing himself out. Arthur did not bother accompanying him to the door, to busy thinking about Merlin and how to help him. The warlock was, himself absorbed in his thoughts. Water. That was their hint. In a world where there was mostly water, standing on a land that was surrounded by deep blue oceans, _water_ was no lead to follow. It could be anything, anywhere. 

Merlin lost himself in his thoughts, deeply concentrated. He had seen most of the world from his own eyes. He had experience with thousands of years of wandering patiently as he waited for some hint of his return. He had studied vastly, killing time with readings of a vast collection of knowledge. _Think, think, think,_ he told himself. He pressed a hand against his forehead as if the movement would affect his memory.

His thoughts were interrupted when solid arms surrounded him. Arthur was embracing him, pulling his body tight against the other man’s chest. The sorcerer could feel the desperation and need for comfort in his friend’s embrace. Merlin was being squished uncomfortably, the pressure on his chest to tight, making it hard to breath. But he did not complain. The King needed such comfort and in all honesty, he needed it also. So he placed his arms around his neck, shifting his body underneath the King to bury his face in the depth of his shoulder. He inhaled the blonde’s sent, breathing it in as if it were all the air he needed, his personal lifeline. Arthur pulled back only for a moment, not taking his hands off the gangly body he was previously holding onto. A pair of warm lips found themselves pressed against the wizard’s. The brunet opened his slightly, sending an invitation to the King to bring the kiss further, something he took gladly. With their tongues intertwine; they lied in bed next to one another. Merlin’s hands roamed along the flank of his partner’s chest, enjoying the warmth underneath his touch.

Only a few days ago, Merlin had been afraid he would never be this close to Arthur again. The fear and worry that had haunted him for days on end washed off him as he gave into the embrace. 

“Merlin,” the King called out, pulling the warlock’s jawline to make their faces meet. He got lost into the blue of the blonde’s eyes, staring into the deep look that was reflecting on him. “I love you,” the King whispered as he placed a chaste kiss upon the brunet’s cheeks. 

“And I you” he replied, pulling the blonde’s body closer. He rested his head on his chest as strong arms wrapped themselves around him. 

Merlin closed his eyes as he entered a deep slumber. He was asleep feeling safe, hopeful, and loved. 

***

The warlock found himself standing by the side of a lake. His breath accelerated as he realized he was having another dream. The feeling of panic that rushed through his body every night as he realized that, once more, his sleep was going to be painful as another nightmare plagues his unconscious mind. He trembled with the panic growing in his chest. 

“It’s alright,” he told himself. “It’s just a dream. Just a dream. You’ll wake up and you will wake up in Arthur’s arms.” He smiled at the thought that he was indeed with the King. That truth gave him a little strength.

The water in front of the lake bubbled. A lady dressed in a dark red dress rose from in the water. Her black hair stuck to her face as she stepped forwards. “Here again Merlin,” Freya condescendingly addressed warlock. “You disappoint me.”

“Freya please”

“Don’t speak! I don’t want to hear any more from you. Do you know how many times I’ve seen you sitting next to the lake, forced to watch you do the worst mistake in your life”

“I’ve never wanted this-”

“You come here, always high,” she interrupted. “Senseless. You use to be so nice, so considerate, a real lionheart. Look at you now, living for the next buzz. You went through all that trouble to make you survive the test of time, but you ended up being more dead than alive”.

She looked at him with a withering look, unpleased with what the man she used to love had become. 

“Do you know what it does to me to be forced to see you day after day ruin yourself, unable to help because you are too stubborn to listen to me? You are not only hurting yourself Merlin, you are hurting me. But you don’t care about that don’t you. You only care about your selfish desires for drugs. You’re ready to ruin anything as long as you can have just a moment, even a fake one, to numb the pain inside. The problem is that you don’t realize that you are causing a lot more pain not only to you, but to everyone around you. “

“Merlin,” he heard a distant whisper in the background, a cry that was calling him out of his cloudy dream. Arthur was calling his name, trying to pull him out of the nightmare filled sleep. 

“Go, go run towards the lie, towards the next high. But when you are suffering, don’t come crying to me about it,” she spat superciliously, disgusted with the mess of a man that she use to call a friend. 

Merlin’s face frowned at the painful words. He knew his actions had been wrong. He regretted taking the drugs. Moments of weakness had driven him to go over the edge, desperate. He had fought it, many times trying to get off the substance that had caused him so much pain, but the painful withdrawal and crumbling loneliness never let him escape the hell he had been trapped in for thousands of years. 

The warlock couldn’t stand the dream anymore. The guilt and regrets were washing over his body, painfully reminding him of all he hated about his life, and himself. He closed his eyes, concentrating on the voice that was calling his name. He opened them again only to be looking at locks of blonde hair. 

His arms found their ways underneath Arthur’s pulling onto the man’s shoulders. He grabbed handfuls of the King’s body, craving him closer. Arthur was his security, his safe haven, bringing him out of a world of pain. He desperately hung to the man. He held on tight as he tried to control his breath, slowly returning to reality. The blonde held his neck and played with his hair, whispering soft words to keep him calm. Suddenly it hit him, the realization. “Freya” he shouted. 

“Shhh, hey its alright”

“No Arthur, Freya! She has the power to get us the cure,” he realized

“Wait. What are you sayings,” the King confusingly asked.

“Freya is the spirit who inhabits the lake of Avalon. She has powers beyond my understanding. She is the one who preserved your body for the thousands of years you were dead. Her strength is unrivaled”

“You believe that she has the magic we need?”

“I am certain. It can only be her”

Arthur smiled wildly, filled with the joy of finally having an answer to his questions. He almost laughed in content. It was hard for Merlin to break his hopes. 

“She won’t help us though,” Merlin explained.

“Nonsense, why wouldn’t she”

“We fought. She is mad at me, so mad,” the warlock explained. Indeed, the nightmare he had experiences was painful not because it was a vision, but because it was a memory. He regretted that conversation, hoping that he could forget the cruel words the person who once was his friend had told him out of anger and spite. But his mind would not allow him as much as the chance of forgetting, reminding him in his dreams the pain he had caused not only himself, but others. He could never be free from the regret that plagued him.

“I doubt she considers me ‘worthy of anything,” the sorcerer added disappointingly. His faith was sealed. The only person that could help them would not and it was his entire fault. There was no one to blame other than Merlin, and the wizard did just that, blaming himself severely. 

“It can’t be that bad,” the King consoled. “We have to try.”

“It is. I ruined it all,” he replied filled with guilt.

“I refuse to believe that. If she was once your friend there must be some hope,” the knight would not be discouraged. “Tell me where to find the lady of the lake”

“In the lake outside,” the wizard explained, almost laughing at the irony of the situation. The solution had been so far and yet was kept so close for all this time. 

The King got out of the bed and walked to the wardrobe, pulling out some clean clothes. “Arthur. It won’t work,” the brunet protested.

“Shut up Merlin,” the blonde interrupted, ignoring the comments of his friend. He put on a plaid shirt with a red and blue pattern, a piece of clothing he knew Merlin was obsessed with taking off of him. If he wasn’t going to follow with logic, the knight would make him follow by lust. 

The warlock was dressed by his friend, protesting as a gray t-shirt was slipped above his head. Of course the royal prat was not listening any of his complaints. He knew Freya would not help him. She had openly told him many times that she would laugh at him if he came begin for help. At the moment he ignored the threat, sure that there was no hope. But Arthur believed and would not let go and the sorcerer couldn’t bring himself to contradict his hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a reminder that the next chapter will only be published on Jan 2nd. Have a great New Year Celebration everyone.


	14. Arthur POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! I cannot tell you all how exited I am to finally be in 2015! And you should be exited also because I have so many new ideas for stories and fanfiction. Some few ideas that go along this AU, some that are more axed around the canon era. Overall just plenty of Merthur for you all.  
> Enough chitchat, time for plot development.  
> I do not own Merlin

_Only You Can Save Me by Darin_

Arthur grabbed Merlin by the arm, holding his lanky body up as they carried themselves out of the flat. The wizard complained without end but the King would not have any of it. He ignored the brunet’s pleas as he forced them to continue their way towards the lake. He did not care what the man thought; the blonde knew that he was worth saving. To Arthur, he was worth everything, more than everything, more than worth the pain and complications of going through all of the troubles, and he would not accept anything less than that. So he ignored the discouraging words that were being repeated onto his ear, refusing to give them any attention. 

The night was slowly dying as a few rays of light colored the sky pink. It was too late to be out and too early for anyone to be awake. They were alone with nothing more than them, their beating hearts echoing in their ear and the dead silence coming from the stale lake shore. 

He placed Merlin on the ground, sitting the sick man on the rock that he had laid on the first night the King had returned. The lake stayed motionless under Arthur’s stare.

“Freya,” he screamed to the emptiness, hoping for something to happen, wanting anything. But the nature replied with silence.

“It’s useless Arthur,” the exhausted voice exhaled in his direction. Merlin was leaning onto the adjacent threes as his own body weight was too much for him to handle. 

The King looked around, searching for a solution. An old row boat was badly hidden behind a few bushes, giving Arthur an idea. If the lady of the lake would not come to them, they would go to her, hunting her down in the middle of the waters. 

“Common,” he ordered as he pulled the gangly man from the ground. “We’re not giving up just yet.” He placed his friend in the boat before entering in the vessel himself. “What are you doing,” Merlin whispered exhaustingly. 

“Getting what you need,” he answered with the straightest face. 

“It won’t-”

“Don’t be an idiot _Mer_ lin; you know I never listen to what you say so save your breath,” he angrily replied. He had had enough of the sorcerer’s pessimism.

He rowed towards the monument in the middle of the lake, advancing with determination into the morning twilight. “Freya,” he shouted into the empty sky. “I’m not going anywhere. It would be easier on us all if you show yourself now,” he explained.

“Arthur Pendragon calling me out,” a female voice came out of the empty space. “I dared not think of the night in which you would come to me. You surprise me.”

“I am not a man to give up easily.”

“You should though,” she warned. “It would save you time. Your friend is right, coming to me was useless”

“How can you say that when you do not even know why I am here. Please show yourself, let me see you. It would make communication easier.”

A wave of mist flew onto the lake as a slim figure approached their boat. Arthur squeezed his eyes as a lady in elegance revealed herself in front of him, dressed in a simple red dress. She flipped her hair as is stuck onto her skin with wetness. 

“Thank you,” the King politely addressed her. 

“Arthur Pendragon, entertain me with your plea. It will not fail to amuse me to see you defend that man.”

“Merlin is not simply ‘that man’. Sure, he is a complete idiot and quite a useless buffoon. But he is loyal beyond compare, caring and kind. And now he is paying for a mistake he has suffered more than enough for.”

“You truly believe he is worthy of such kind words. Then you are more of a fool than I though. You have not seen the things I witness by the side of this lake. He is far from what you described.”

“I truly regret the actions that I’ve taken. You must believe that I got caught into a world that I did not want to fall into. Weakness driven me to madness, and I wish I would have been strong enough to stop myself from entering this hell,” the brunet argued teary eyed. 

“Your words are nothing more than sound to me, sounds with no meaning. Tell me Merlin, if Arthur wasn’t here, would you have stopped? Would you honestly have regretted your actions if there wasn’t a reason motivating you to do just that or would you still be running after the next high, desperate for the hallucination of his presence?”

The warlock needed a moment to think for a moment about the answer a moment, not because he hesitated, but because he needed to find the words that would express his thoughts the most. This was his only chance to convince Freya.

“I was afraid of coming to see you for a long time. The words you told me during our last conversation in the renaissance still haunt me today. You were so disgusted with me. I am also disgusted with me” the warlock sadly explained.

“In all honesty, I would regret it as much as I do now. I have regretted it for thousands of years. The guilt plagues me daily. But the pain is often worst. Arthur is majorly why I am stopping now. But it is not for the reason you think. Basically I have no drugs left to consume. He threw them all out. That is the major reason why I have been sober for this long. If he were not here,” an expression of pain crossed the wizards face as he remembered the pain of solitude. "I don't know what would have happened. I would probably be struggling. Though in truth I am struggling now, even with his presence.” Arthur turned towards his friend. Merlin did not hold his gaze, looking down at his feet. 

“Before you know it, they take over your life, the addictions” he clarified lost in his thoughts. "I found myself at the bottom of a whole. I tried to dig myself out only to find out that I was going under, digging deeper. It's hard getting out of hell all alone, especially when your life has no reason, no meaning,” he paused for a moment, shaken by the memory of his years of solitude

“Now everything has changed and it is still painfully hard to get myself back in line. It's the hardest thing I ever did, and I use to work for this prat, I know hard work,” he kid making the ambiance a little lighter. "There is just so much one can endure without some help. There is just so much we can do without your help Freya.”

The spirit looked down at the sorcerer with a sad pitiful look. The words the brunet had used had failed to move her. 

“You know only people who are worthy can get benefits from my magic. There used to be a time where you were more than that. In a time where myths were being created, when you helped a prince shape his destiny and create a great kingdom, the greatest kingdom this world has ever know, then, my magic would be yours. You wouldn’t have needed to ask it would already be at your service. Once, Merlin, you were a young man worthy of such powerful help. But the centuries have changed. The great Kingdom no longer stands and you are far from being a young man. Though your body has survived the test of time, I am afraid your heart and mind have not. You are not the one you use to be and for that reason I cannot do what you ask of me.”

“If not for him then do it for me,” Arthur shouted to the lady in front of him, his arms wide open as he presented himself. “Am I not worthy of the chance to help the man who helped me most, to help the man I love?”

Nature fell silent as she considered. Neither an animal nor an insect dared to make any noise. The King didn’t realize he was holding his breath in the anticipation of an answer.

“I cannot so easily tell. I will have to test you. Jump in these waters and let me see who you really are inside, search your heart for the worthwhile qualities that you must have to receive my help. If you think you are worthy Arthur Pendragon, and pray that you are, then dive in the lake, for if you are not I cannot predict the outcome.”

The blonde rushed to the side of the boat, unhesitant. He stopped as a weak hand placed itself around his wrist, restraining him from moving forwards. He turned to see the brunet stopping him with eyes filled with worry and scare. 

“Arthur, don’t,” he whispered softly, begging for him to stay on the boat. 

“You risked your life so many times for me, loyal without compare. At least once, let me do the same for you”

“That doesn’t compare. What’s the life of a servant compared to the one of a King. Please don’t do it, not without knowing what you’re risking”

“Nonsense. You’re much more than a servant boy and I am no longer a King. It’s just you and me now, nothing else, no titles attached to that. I don’t care about the consequences. If it meant making you better, then I’d risk it all gladly,” he answered crawling back towards the edge.

“Arthur, stay with me,” Merlin cried in a plea that broke the blonde’s heart. The pain in he heard in the brunet’s voice revealed the truth. The warlock had used the same one he had said as Arthur had passed away on the lake’s shore. The blonde turned towards the warlock, grabbing his head. A tear stained face look up to him as he swallowed heavily. The pain on the brunet’s face touched him deeply. In that moment Arthur knew more than ever that he would do anything for his friend, as Merlin would do anything for him. 

“Last time you went into that lake I lost you for more than a thousand years,” the warlock explained. The knight began to understand the true fear behind his friend’s emotions. “I couldn’t bear to lose you again.” His voice was broken with emotion, more of a cry than a sentence.

“Do you trust me?” the blonde asked 

“With my life,” the warlock answered immediately. 

“Then trust me with mine.” He intertwined his fingers with the soft hair locks on the edge on the sorcerer’s neck, tenderly scraping his nails on his scalp to comfort him. He locked his eyes into the other’s gaze, waiting for a response. Merlin nodded sadly, unsatisfied with the situation but accepting the idea.  
Arthur kissed the sorcerer’s forehead, pressing all his love within his lips before he dived into the lake.

The water was cold, freezing the deepest parts of Arthur’s body. He could feel the painful sting of the cold within the cord of his bones. The shock was enough to make him gasp. But despite the gasping and the freezing temperature, Arthur did not lose air. Somehow he was floating still in the unmoved water. That is when he felt it, the pressure moving within him, like a wave inspecting parts of his body, looking underneath his skin.

On the surface, the blonde was a condescending prat that annoyed most people, treating others with less respect than they deserved. But it was the inside that showed what Arthur really was. He cared for the people who entrusted him, who loved him, ready to place his life on the line if it meant saving innocents. He listened to his people, caring about their opinions and ideas. Justice, courage, leadership, those values resided at the base of the man’s soul. Arthur was undeniably pure of heart. With a loud breath intake, the knight rose above the water. 

“I did not expect to see that much life in a body that was dead for so long,” a voice called him back to reality. Freya stood above the water, floating with grace and power. Arthur swam towards the boat; Merlin was already folded around it with his hands out reaching for him. The knight pulled himself up, not wanting to put too much work on the already sick man who obviously struggled to drag him up. 

“Your heart is pure Arthur Pendragon. It is filled with courage, loyalty, kindness, mercy, admirable qualities that are rare to find in such powerful men. You are trustworthy, and companionate, but most of all your heart is filled with love, love for your people, love for your friends, love for Merlin. What is in the bottom of your heart is Merlin. He is what makes your heart beat, makes you move forward,” the lady of the lake explained. Arthur smiled at the words and their undeniable truth. 

“I will give you the help you want so desperately because of that heart of yours, do not make me regret this,” she exclaimed. She closed her hand, making a tight fist before blowing a light breath on it. A cool breeze flew across the lake as she breathed onto her hand, making Arthur’s wet shiver with the wind. She opened her fist, presenting to the knight a vial of small liquid of a clear blue that almost shined in the early morning light. She gave her hand to the noble 

“Thank you,” the blonde answered with all the gratefulness of his heart expressed in his voice. Without losing another moment, Arthur turned towards Merlin, almost jumping onto him. The warlock was barely keeping his eyes open, all his strength gone in the trip to the lake. He had been trying to stay up for longer than he could endure. And his effort to bring Arthur back onto their boat had drained him off all energy that was left. 

The knight pulled Merlin up, holding his head up as he open the vial, pouring it into the warlock’s mouth. “Work, work, work,” he whispered to the potion, ordering it to do its magic. But Merlin did not move. “Come on,” the blonde plead as he pressed his lips upon the brunet’s. He smiled into their embraced when he felt the man respond to his kiss. 

It worked, Merlin was breathing healthy, returning to himself. The warlock returned his kiss with great passion. His hands found themselves locked behind his back, exploring his body earnestly. Arthur was desperate for Merlin’s embrace. Though he did not admit it, the King had been worried he was losing his friend during the past few days. And now that worry washed of his body as Merlin was his again, and only his. Greedy, the blonde invaded his lover’s mouth, exploring it as he had not touched in so long. It had been so long since their last passionate embrace, it was like kissing him for the first time all over again, driven by want and desire as they intertwined with need for one another. The only difference is that there were no boundaries anymore, for both men knew exactly how they felt, and most importantly, how the other felt. 

Arthur placed one hand behind Merlin’s waist, pulling him closer. He hugged him so tightly the King was almost worried he would bruise the frail body in his arms. Well almost worried. His need to have the man next to him was stronger than any thought that rushed through his head. 

The blonde’ mouth slipped, finding its way down Merlin’s neck, grazing at the sensitive skin with his teeth. He had missed the taste of the man beneath him, how his body reacted with every caress. For the first time in a long time the brunet’s breath was out of control, not because of sickness but because of pleasure. To hear the pants of excitement breathed into his ear encouraged the knight. He sucked on the tender flesh above the warlock’s collarbone. 

“Arthur,” the sorcerer moaned as he pulled on the plaid shirt. The scrapping feeling of his fingers rubbing against the blonde’s back cut his breath short. He pressed his forehead against the other’s looking deeply into his eyes before he placed a chaste kiss upon his lips. He did not expect for Merlin to be so impatient, thought did not complain when the brunet pulled his face closer for a deeper kiss. 

The King was not in the business of teasing, at least not at that time. He gave the wizard what he wanted, pulling on the back of his neck to guide their mouth’s embrace. He could feel his lover moan in his mouth in response to his actions. Merlin wrapped his legs around Arthur’s waist, rolling his body forward. The knight smirked as he felt the man’s hardness press against his own. He trusted forward as he pulled the small body underneath him. The boat shook under his movement. 

Needy for the King’s skin, Merlin pulled on the fabric of Arthur’s button up shirt. He grabbed fistful of the man’s collar as he undid the buttons too slowly. The sorcerer did not wait for the knight to finish undoing the attachments of his clothes. He slid his hands along the man’s chest, ripping of the fabric from his back. 

Arthur rapidly did the same to Merlin, passing the t-shirt over his head. As soon as the bothersome material was off the man’s body, the blonde returned to his attack of the brunet’s skin. Fingers found a way to scratch the back of his scalp as he travel down the warlock’s chest, mouthing onto one of his nipples. He bit down just a little too hard as the sorcerer moaned loudly. With his other hand, the blonde rolled the free nipple in his hand, pinching the erected tip to match his mouth’s action. His other hand was cupping the man through his pants. His caress was delicate, just enough to make him feel present, but not nearly enough to satisfy the burning desires he experienced. He played with the jean’s button, taking his time to detach it. 

Merlin grabbed the blonde’s face, pulling him up for another kiss. As his lips captured the King’s mouth, he let his hands wander freely. He took off his pants, impatient with the speed at which the knight had been undressing him.  
Arthur hands slid along Merlin’s side, grabbing his shoulders to steady his movements. The King was in control, not that sorcerer was complaining. He realized how overdressed he was when he pushed forward only to feel the pants material act as a barrier between them. As knowing what he was thinking, the brunet began to undo the front of his pants. He bit his bottom lip, sending shivers down the King’s spine. His pants hadn’t reached his knees that the blonde was already rubbing himself against the brunet. 

Arthur forced himself to open his eyes, despite the waves of pleasure that were taking over him. He locked his gaze onto his lover’s face, taking in every detail of his features. Lustful fever looked so good on the sorcerer. The color he could see in his cheeks gave him an idea. He stopped his movement against the wizard’s sensitive vein underneath his throbbing cock only to replace it with his tongue. He licked the length of his lover’s manhood. He held down the thin hips to steady the man as he placed his mouth around his head. With one last look at the figure above him, he swallowed down the brunet’s length, only breaking eye contact when he reached the base of his member. 

Arthur was sucking Merlin painfully slowly, making the warlock scream in frustrated pleasure. The blonde matched his movement with the hums he made as he slid up and down. His tongue rolled around the tip, slipping underneath the sensitive skin at top whenever he reached the head. He enjoyed the sounds that escape Merlin’s lips, knowing every movement he made caused him to lose control a little bit more. 

“Oh Arthur,” the warlock barely managed to say, desire taking over his breath. “Arthur it too… I’m…,” 

“Not yet,” the King smirked as he forbade the man to come. He crawled back up the brunet’s chest, licking his way up. He captured the sorcerer’s lips as his fingers found their way to his entrance. Words of a foreign language were whispered against the knight’s mouth. Arthur touched only to find that Merlin was already wide open. 

“Did you…,” he asked surprised

“No time for that,” he moaned out of breath. “I want you inside me, _now_ ”

Arthur did not wait to be asked twice as he placed himself upon Merlin’s entrance. He pushed in carefully as his trusts made the boat rock dangerously. Powerful movements gave to much push against the boat’s floor, making them almost tip over. Forced to move slowly, the blonde pulled Merlin close to him, slipping one hand behind his back. 

They slithered like snakes, moving with one another. With every thrust, Merlin moaned like there was no one around for miles and Arthur was glad that there were because his grunts were out of control. The brunet moved forward, meeting his partner in his movement. 

The pressure built up in Arthur as he bit down on the brunet’s shoulder. With a moan in the warlock’s ear, the King came into his lover. “Merlin,” he screamed as he released. The sound of his name being cried into his ear was enough to push the wizard off the edge. He gasped loudly as his own orgasm took over. 

They laid there for a moment. Arthur passed his fingers through the sweat damped hair, smiling as he caught his breath. “Is everything alright?” the warlock asked as he felt the man’s gaze upon him

“Yes, it’s just,” he struggled for words. “I’m so glad I’m back in this world”

“You’re glad you left paradise,” the brunet commented. 

“Without you there it wasn’t paradise,” the blonde replied. “Sure, it was great, very relaxing and nothing was needed. But being there without my friend, the one I loved, it didn’t matter. The world was half complete. I strongly rather face the pains of this world all over again with you by my side than to spend another day in that world.”

Merlin placed his hand on Arthur’s face, passing his thumb along the man’s jawline. He kissed his lips and tried his best to demonstrate how the words had touched him by his movement of his lips. “I love you so much. You saved me from my hell,” he rejoined. 

“I love you more than words allow me to explain,” he struggled. “You moved my heaven onto earth.” 

Merlin rolled onto Arthur, laying his head in the hollow of his shoulder. His fingers lingered along the man’s chest, expressing his love in the simple caress. The King wrapped his arms around his lover, pulling him closer because he could, because he wanted to. They stayed in the boat, in silence, enjoying the moment they shared, not separated by time, anger, or sickness. They were them, they were together, and that was all there was to it.


	15. Merlin POV

_You’re the Voice, John Farnham because again, it wouldn’t be a Merthur fanfic without this song._

Merlin led the way back to his flat. As they arrived at the threshold, he realized the door was wide open. Had they locked the door? He turned to Arthur with a hesitant look on his face. Immediately, the King became defensive. He placed himself on the other side of the open door, ready to jump in. With a free hand, he waved some instructions to Merlin. As if the warlock knew what he was talking about? After all the horrible hunting trips they had done in Camelot, the blonde should know by now that the warlock was useless when it came to interpreting strategically signals. 

Arthur did not stop for Merlin’s confusing though, with a mouthed countdown he entered the flat in a rush. Merlin followed, sticking to the King like his shadow. He froze when he saw the intruder in his living room. Robert was sitting on the sofa with his feet placed upon the coffee table. “You’re back,” he exclaimed as he noticed their presence.

“What are you doing in my flat,” the warlock retorted angrily.

“The door was open, I came in. I’m sorry. I could wait back at my place. I needed to know if you had succeeded. Today your destiny unfolded and I had to hear what had happened first hand.”

“You are going to have to be a lot clearer if you want to justify the reasons behind your break in,” the King threated, slightly irritated with the lack of answer

“I told you I knew what Albion needed most, the true reason behind Arthur’s return. I knew about your future, and today it has become your past.” The modern knight’s answer intrigued the sorcerer. He failed to understand how they had saved Albion. 

“Go on,” he ordered.

“The reason Arthur returned was for you Merlin. You are what Albion needs most. Ever since you were born, you did everything in your power to help the people around you. Even after Camelot, even after Arthur, you used your magic to help people, to heal them when they needed, to show them the way in times of confusion, and to shed light on dark days. Throughout plagues, wars, and genocides, you always gave your best to help the people around you. You, you’re magic, everything you ever did, helped build the country that we now know.” Merlin shook his head in disbelief, refusing to acknowledge it.

“For centuries, you were what Albion needed most for you were there every time it needed help. And then things changed. You lost hope, gave up on the world, and stopped using your magic for the benefit of the people. You were broken and that caused this world great pain. That is why Arthur came back, not for some horrible war, or disastrous catastrophe. He is here to help the one who brought the most help to this land. He rose again because you needed it most,” Robert explained. 

Merlin blinked his eyes in disbelief. He wasn’t that important, really. If he had known that all it took for Arthur to come back to him he would have had broken down a lot earlier in his life. 

Some parts of him were glad to hear the news. It was pretentious of him, but he enjoyed knowing that Arthur had come back for him, only him. He had always been jealous of the destiny of Albion, knowing that the blonde would never leave the Kingdom behind. He turned towards his lover, taking in all the news he had just heard with eyes filled with happy tears. 

“Oh don’t be such a girl Merlin,” Arthur insulted, obviously uncomfortable.

“Me being a girl,” the warlock protested. “You are the one who rose from the dead for me. You’re being a girl. Your faith is a girl”

Annoyed, the King shoved the sorcerer’s shoulder, pushing him slightly. But he did not fail to grab his hand and help him stay steady on his feet. His thumb drew circles on the outer part of his hand, tenderly grazing the skin. 

“Well I am obviously overstaying my welcome,” Robert stated as he got up to leave.

“You were not welcomed here, you broke in,” Arthur pointed out. 

“Yes well, I should still be heading out.” He slithered by the men, passing around them until he reached the door. He closed it behind him, leaving the men alone.

Merlin squeezed Arthur’s hand as his eyes filled with thankful joy. The King’s fingers were cold. The damp clothes from his swim in the lake were far from being dry. A few small drops were trickling down the lock of blonde hair. The warlock turned towards him, tossing a thread of hair out of his face. They stayed silent, looking at one another with eyes filled with love. Merlin slowly moved forward, pressing his lips slightly on the King’s face. He pulled on the blonde’s neck, scrapping his nails as he guided the other man’s face. Arthur smiled in their embrace. Merlin hands slid down the knight’s body, reaching the collar of his button up shirt. He grabbed fistfuls of the material as he pulled his lover closer to him. Arthur was quite enjoying Merlin’s approaches, letting the man in control. He would let him play the empowered one, for now. 

Their tongues met as their fought for dominance. The warlock was persistent in their kiss was intensified. Arthur grabbed his waist and moved forward, having enough of being passive in their embrace. He placed a leg in between Merlin’s forcing the warlock to move backwards. The King was guiding his movements, pushing him towards the bedroom. As the sorcerer noticed where they were going. 

“Arthur,” he protested. The blonde immediately stopped his advances, worried something was wrong. 

“I’ve spent the last days in bed rest; I don’t particularly want to go back to the bedroom right now,” he explained, biting his lower lip. 

“Alright,” the knight said, taking a step back. A look of deception plagues his face. Merlin smiled. Arthur was so innocent. He had thought that it was an excuse to stop making out. 

The blonde went and sat on the sofa, waiting for what the brunet would do. His legs were crossed as he tried to hide the half hard erection, his manhood slightly disappointed at the fact it was neglected.

“I’m going to take a shower,” the warlock exclaimed.

“Alright,” the blonde simply stated, sounding slightly disappointed. The sorcerer almost laughed at the innocence in the King’s thoughts. He entered the bathroom and started the water, waiting for it to become warm. 

“Don’t you want to join me,” he screamed from the loo with a cocky smile across his lips. He could hear the sigh of frustration as the realization of what had happened flew over him. His figure passed by the threshold only instant later, already pulling at the back of his shirt. He did not waste a second as he crashed his lips against the brunet’s. 

Merlin did not have the time to laugh at his lover. His mouth was already too occupied. A warm tongue was inserted into his mouth. Arthur was exploring the entirety of his jaw, claiming it has his. His greedy hands were making their way up the gangly man’s chest, pulling up his shirt as he moved on the skin. Merlin pulled back as the piece of clothing passed above his head. 

He undid his trousers and entered the water. With a cocky smile, he looked at his lover, inviting him into the water. Arthur followed rapidly, jumping over his pants as he entered the shower. Merlin pressed himself hardly against the blonde’s as their bodies were separated for too long during the time they undressed. The warmth of Arthur’s skin mixed with the warmth of the falling water sent all of Merlin’s nerves on alert. He could feel every touch on his skin as the King explored his body, dragging the digits up and down his arms. Their mouths never disconnected. The warlock kissed the blonde as though his mouth was his only air. 

The warmth from the shower was coloring the King’s skin, creating red patches across his body, bringing attention to the tender parts that were changing under the water’s work. He did not know if the heat coming from his lover’s skin was because of the shower or because of arousal, but at this point, he did not care. The only things that mattered was to explore those sights of arousal, to trace his hands around the colored skin, caressing his lover’s body. The water rippling down their bodies made every movement easier, their hands slide down the wet skin with ease. 

Merlin’s nails dug into Arthur’s back as the blonde nibbled his way down his neck. His fingers nested in the blonde hair above the blonde’s head as he sucked on the brunet’s collarbone. His breath was cut short by the pleasure that such care gave him. The shivers caused by the arousing feelings were contrasted by the warm environment of the shower. The King bit and sucked on his neck, and Merlin knew he would have bruises tracing the path that Arthur had used. He moaned loudly in the man’s ear, unashamed of the noises escaping him. 

The warlock pushed his hips forward, pressing his erection against the man’s thigh. Such push encouraged the King to move forward. He slammed Merlin against the shower wall, immobilizing him with his body. The sorcerer pushed forward, not because he wanted to get off the wall, but because he wanted to be closer to Arthur. The blonde reached down, grabbing the cheeks of his lover’s bum. He squeezed as he pulled the man’s hips close to his. Their erections rubbed against one another with every tug, but that was not enough for Merlin. He did not want to feel Arthur against him. He needed the man in him. 

As though reading his thoughts, the King reached for the man’s entrance, teasing it painfully as he twirled his fingers around. The wizard lowered himself slightly, encouraging the blonde to move forward. The shower water acting as lubricant, the finger entered easily. Arthur curled his digit, looking for the spot that would make the brunet go crazy. With a loud scream in his ear, he knew he had found the man’s prostate. With his second finger, he attacked the point, making the warlock moan heavily. He stretched his entrance, readying the wizard for him. 

Merlin spread his legs, lifting one of them around his partner. Arthur grabbed it as he penetrated the brunet. His hand held the free thigh, controlling the angle at which he was trusting. 

Arthur grunted loudly as he moved into the man, only giving Merlin more reasons to scream. His King was biting his shoulder, licking the tender flesh as he let out those incredibly pleasing sounds. The warlock pulled the knight’s head up. He held the blonde’s face in his hands before he smacked his lips against the others. Merlin’s body was bouncing against Arthur’s movements. The King pushed his figure up, making his back hit the wall as his weight pressed him down. He followed Arthur’s rhythm, a slave to the blonde’s thrusts. 

The King placed a hand upon the brunet’s free erection, wanking at it as he felt himself get closer to orgasm. He pumped heretically, pulling the warlock to his stage of ecstasy. 

“Merlin,” the King grunted as his pushes became frantic. “ _My Merlin_.” 

“Yes,” he moaned in response, acknowledging the feeling. He was Arthur’s, entirely freely giving himself to the blonde. There was no one else he wanted to be with. Merlin had dedicated his life for the King, loving him uncontrollably throughout the centuries. And now he knew that Arthur had been the same. He had returned from the dead only for him. Their love was what had saved the warlock, what Albion needed most. They had been given another lifetime to live together, to be together as they always were meant to be, in love. 

“Say it again,” he asked, feeling himself get closer to the edge. 

“My Merlin,” the blonde whispered as be bit his earlobe. The brunet’s muscles clenched around Arthur as he came. The force of his orgasm left his legs weak, standing only by the force of the King’s push. 

Arthur followed him as the tightness around him drove him over the edge. With lips pressed against the brunet’s face, he moaned into the other’s mouth as he was swept away with pleasure. 

They crumbled to the ground, sitting on the shower floor.

“Merlin, my idiotic buffoon,” he exclaimed as he leaned onto his lover’s shoulders, still experiencing the waves of his orgasm. 

“Arthur, my total clotpole,” he replied as he trapped the blonde’s lips before they could protest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this is how my story finishes. There is a short epilogue to be published on the 6th. I hope you liked reading this story as much as I loved writing it. Please let me know what you thought of my fic. And also tell me if you want more? I have plenty of ideas of what happens afterwards with these two idiots. Ideas like Arthur finding out about Merlin's ex Glen and getting jealous and bothered. Or having the both of them watch their Disney movie and complain the whole time about how wrong it is. My favorite ideas often involve placing Arthur in very public places like in the tube or a shopping center and say things that our modern ears would find odd and make him embarrasses Merlin. If you guys want more of my Merthur headcannon let me know and I will write a second fic. I love to share my stories with you all.


	16. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, I am late. I was writing and completely lost track of time. Next thing I know it's passed midnight and I still haven't posted the epilogue. Forgive me? At least I can tell you that I am late because I was busy writing the first few words of the sequel to this fic. Yes, I have decided to write a sequel, for your pleasure and mine. But do not get to exited yet. I need some time to write the story, so it won't be up for a few months.   
> Thank you all for reading the story. It means so much to me you have no idea.   
> Now, enough chitchat. For the last time in this time, I have to say I do not own Merlin.

_Three weeks later_

“This is completely ridiculous” Arthur screamed from the bedroom as he adjusted the clothes he was forced to wear.

“Don’t be such a bummer” Merlin replied from the kitchen. “I think it’s a great idea”

“Of course you would you idiot” the blonde angrily replied. “You probably are as stupid as this costume.” He came out of the room with a pout. He was wearing dark blue clothes that were mostly hidden by the cape that lay upon his shoulder. Tied around his shoulder, it was decorated with bright yellow stars that covered the entirety of the material. But what was the most ridiculous aspect of his accouterment was the pointy had on his head. Also star patterned, it stood tall on him, almost touching the ceiling.

The doorbell rang, making Merlin jump. “Quick, it’s your turn to answer them” he explained as she shoved a bowl of candy in Arthur’s hands. Unamused the King went to answer, opening the door to see a group of young children screaming ‘happy Halloween’ as they presented their open bags to him. He lazily gave them their treat before returning to his friend in the kitchen. 

Arthur had to admit that the idea of dressing up as one another wasn’t completely stupid. He simply hadn’t expected that his friend would pull out the Hollywood version of his persona for him to wear. But it was still rewarding because Merlin looked dashing in a knight’s outfit. Seeing the brunet wear his chainmail reminded the King why he had never allowed him to bring one along during their adventures in Camelot. The pauldron on his shoulder was too big for the man and he was mostly floating in the chainmail, but still, Arthur found Merlin incredibly attractive. He always knew that the man was qualified, but seeing his lover dressed with the outfit of nobility he deserved was affecting him more than he had expected. Maybe Merlin had predicted that outcome. Maybe that was why he had been so willing to use such costumes for the celebration. Or maybe he enjoyed teasing Arthur so much, with his little movements from left to right that made the whole outfit shake with him, attracting the blonde’s eye.

The doorbell’s ring woke the King from his daydream. “Could you take care of these ones please” the brunet asked as his hands were plunged in some mixture of what sort. Merlin had insisted that he spend a part of the night setting up an altar to celebrate the day’s events. 

Arthur agreed to his demands, taking care of the little girl who was waiting at the threshold. “I’m a princess” she screamed as he opened the door. 

“What a lovely princess indeed” he gave her the candy. “For you Milady” 

“Thank you” she grinned from ear to ear, exposing the missing tooth at the front of her smile. She skipped away, rushing to the next door. 

“Samhain is nothing like it used to be” Arthur stated as he returned to his friend. “This tradition doesn’t make any sense” he commented as he dropped the bowl of candy on the table. “What happened to the banquets and the celebrations with a crowned of gathered loved ones”

“Ah yes, like most things in this day and age, Samhain has been commercialized” he explained as he place the last few details onto the altar on the counter. He lighted the candle that encircled the cauldron and poor wine into the ceremonial cup.

“I don’t understand how it evolved into giving candy to children dressed in stupid outfits” he argued once more. “And I understand even less whatever girly thing you’ve spent most of the night preparing”

“Samhain is the day where we are closest to the dead. I’m paying my respect to the ones that passed away. The altar represents magical energy given to the spirts”

“Girly” the King repeated

“I’m sorry for being a ‘girl’ about this” he protested, obviously bothered. “It’s important alright. I had a friend who was very dead for very long thank you”

Arthur swallowed is words, regretting his nagging of the brunet’s practice. Merlin had spent so many years waiting for him. He sometimes forgot just how demanding that must have been on the warlock. He walked up to his concentrated partner and pulled him in his arms. 

“You’re right. Sorry” he presented as he kissed the brunet’s forehead

“Wow! Not only did you admit I was right but you excused yourself” the wizard replied mockingly. “That’s not something you see every day”

“Fine” the king shouted. “No more affection for you if it’s going to end like this” he stepped back as the door rang once more. The blonde served the children again. He noticed a flash or red in the cupboard near the door. Curious, he opened it to inspect further. On the top shelve of the closet was a pillow that was too familiar to the King. A red cousin embroidered with golden threads. He traced the patterns with is fingers, knowing their design by heart.

“Merlin” Arthur called.

“What is it again” the brunet replied as he entered the living room. His attention was immediately caught by the pillow in the King’s hands. The blonde met his gaze, questioning him with his eyes. Merlin looked away, slightly ashamed that Arthur had found it

“This is my pillow” he stated. 

“Yes” the sorcerer replied barely audibly. 

“My pillow from Camelot” he clarified. 

“The same” he shyly confirmed. 

Arthur’s chest tightened. For all these years the brunet had kept it for all these years. It had been cared for as it had survived all this time without being damaged. The blonde noticed some mended holes in the corner or the material and a few water stains that had been treated for.

“I spent every day making that bed and placing the sheets for at least 10 years, sometimes even twice a day. And that was went you didn’t throw it to my face” the warlock laughed. “I care a lot about those bed sheets”

“Yes of course, the bed sheets” the King stated

“And I cared even more for the man who slept in them” he expressed, waiting for a reaction from Arthur. The blonde turned towards his friend, staring at him as though he was all kinds of wonderful. Maybe it was true, maybe he was. He did manage to make his heart beat faster and always made him smile from cheek to cheek. Yes, Merlin was indeed wonderful, but that Arthur would not say, not out loud, not with words. Instead he walked towards the man he loved and pulled him close, placing a passionate kiss upon his lips. 

“Then maybe you would care to see the sheets he uses now” he invited with a cocky smile. 

“I’m not sure, I don’t think I fancy it” the brunet laughed. Arthur placed a kiss upon the warlock’s neck, tenderly sucking at the little flesh that was revealed in the costume. Merlin gasped in surprised, pleased with the sensations that travelled down his spine.

“After further reflection, I think I’d quite like to undo that bed” he replied, walking towards the bedroom. 

They spent the rest of the night, together in those sheets, being romantic, being sarcastic, or simply being stupid. They spent that time together being who they were, a prat and an idiot in love.


End file.
